


The Broken Edge

by idrilhadhafang



Series: The Broken Edge [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Gen, Kylo Ren Backstory, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Start Of Darkness, this became a monster of a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:52:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 68
Words: 102,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9217538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: Ben Solo has always known he was different. Having dysfunctional if loving parents and an imaginary friend who seems to be the only one you can talk to about your problems can do that to anyone, actually. When he's dropped off at the age of four at Uncle Luke's academy to protect him from said seemingly-imaginary friend (though he doesn't know it at the time), it makes things worse. And though he manages to adjust later on, it doesn't change the fact that he's not used to seeing both his parents infrequently. At least he can try and be a good Jedi...right?Unfortunately, such a path is not for Ben.Persuaded by a Dark Sider masquerading as a Jedi Master and haunted by a failure to save a friend, these events finally push the boy Ben Solo into becoming the feared and hated Kylo Ren.





	1. Prologue: Watching, Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> In which our hero turned villain is introduced to the galaxy, and there's a not so happy thing lurking in the background.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: So, this is a fic that I came up with last year, mostly, because I was genuinely curious about Ben Solo's backstory. It was fun; I can't say I've really invented a backstory for a villain in fanfiction before. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

“He’s so tiny.”  
  
  
Even as the medical droid handed the baby to Leia, she was sweating, her hair already come undone from the braids that she had put it in, clinging to the sides of her face. She had already been through the worst of the labor -- the pain, the contractions, the feeling of stars, when is it going to end? -- and yet even in the midst of the exhaustion, the fading pain, there was a sense of amazement at how seemingly fragile the small newborn in her arms was.  
  
His eyes were huge. They could have practically held the secrets of the entire galaxy in there. They looked up at her in awe, in wonder, and yet with a sort of nervousness at how much bigger everything around him must be.  
  
Leia doubted she could ever adequately describe the emotions that were tearing through her almost like a tempest. Awe. Wonder. Fear of what this boy, this seemingly fragile child would go through in the future. Leia had already gone through her share of hell. So had Han. Even holding the bundle in her arms, humming old Alderaanian tunes to the baby to calm him down, she swore that no matter what happened, no matter what the cost, this child, this all-too-fragile child would never endure the hardships that either she or Han went through.  
  
“Hey,” she said. “It’s good to see you.”  
  
The baby reached out towards her, inquisitively reaching towards her hand and Leia took it. He had...well, he had a lot of hair. Han’s mother’s hair, to be more precise. There was quite a lot for a baby, she thought. Imagine trying to keep it neat. And despite that, she couldn’t help but smile.  
  
“Credit for your thoughts.” Han said.  
  
“Nothing really,” Leia said. “He has a lot of hair, doesn’t he?”  
  
“He does.” Han gently ran a thumb over the baby’s cheek. The baby, in turn, reached up towards him and began tracing Han's face, including an accidental poke in the eyes that got a chuckle as well as a wince out of Han, and rubbing his own eye.  
  
"You okay?" Leia said.   
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Welcome to parenthood, huh?"   
  
They both chuckled.   
  
 “I was actually thinking," Leia said, "In terms of names...”  
  
“What?"  
  
It was a name that Leia was too familiar with. It was the name of the man who had served her father during the Clone Wars and helped in saving the galaxy -- a man who deserved to be remembered, if only in the name of their son.  
  
“Ben,” Leia said, softly. “The name Ben’s a good one.”  
  
“Ben Solo? Sounds good to me.”  
  
"Ben it is."  
  
Gently, Han took Ben from her arms. He grinned, and his grin was practically radiant. “Hey there, Ben. Welcome to the galaxy -- you're gonna have a lot to see.”  
  
***  
  
Off in the shadows, unknown to either of them in that moment, the Milaran Snoke watched. No one else noticed him, for his presence was hidden in the Force as well as in plain view. Though he had come here to investigate the strange disturbance in the Force, a disturbance he had not felt since he had left the Order long ago, since his last meeting with Yoda for that matter, he could not be seen. Being seen would only ruin his plans too soon, and he could not have that. Would not, for that matter. Such a thing would be unacceptable. It would ruin everything.  
  
The creature called Snoke, in truth, had been wandering for too long. Even the Empire, the closest that he could have to his hopes coming true, creating a galaxy free of disorder, had crumbled, due to many factors but mostly human weakness on Darth Vader’s part. It was already a year since the defeat had occurred, and he had not felt a flicker like this in quite some time.  
  
Through the Force, the boy was practically radiant with power. Snoke had been present for many births -- though this was the first birth that he had observed if only in the shadows, unseen -- but he doubted that he had ever witnessed someone with as much raw Force potential as this boy did. The boy was practically radiant with it, glowing. Snoke had trained his share of his apprentices, but this...  
  
None of them had come close to what he felt in the Force.  
  
Perhaps in the boy, there was the answer to all the problems he had. The missing piece he was looking for.  
  
In the boy, perhaps, there was the key.


	2. Chapter One: To Protect You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leia's worries about Snoke get bad enough for her to do something that shapes quite a lot of Ben's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: I actually revised things to be more active here, as I thought the chapter was initially too full of exposition. (Insert exposition song from the Nostalgia Critic here) Anyway, I hope I didn't butcher Leia's character; I don't want to be like a certain Dave Wolverton or (shudder) Troy Denning. 
> 
> And well...some stuff here might contradict some stuff established in the novel Bloodline (I had most of it pretty much planned out before Bloodline was released) I don't know if it says in Bloodline how old Ben was when he was sent away (in Leia's words) but if I'm contradicting anything, I'm really sorry.

“I think someone’s watching me.”

Luke looked over at Leia, and the worry in his face was clear. “You’ve felt him too?”

Leia nodded. “I thought I was just being paranoid after Endor, but now I’m wondering if there actually is someone out there. Watching Ben.” Leia bit her lip; even the idea of someone going after her toddler son was enough to frighten her. He was so little, so vulnerable. So trusting. Even when she had felt the presence again in Ben’s room

_Ben’s psychologist said that it was common for tiny children to have imaginary friends and that Ben would grow out of it. All Leia could think was how much the psychologist in question simply did not get it_

Ben hadn’t been afraid, but had been intrigued, laughing, babbling, clapping his hands. He had been only a year old at the time -- now he was four, and the presence hadn’t gone away -- and Leia had been as scared for him as she could possibly get. Imaginary friends usually weren’t a source of panic for parents. But the presence she had felt at Endor...

The best way she could describe it was a lot like a living shadow. Hovering over her, all but seeming to smother her in its heat. Scorching heat, almost like Tatooine or Jakku.

“I think it might be after Ben,” Leia said.

“What do you mean?”

“When Ben was one...” Even going into the story, Leia couldn’t help but feel her skin prickle. And Luke seemed to react the same way -- he looked almost as if the color had been drained from his face.

“Are you sure Ben didn’t -- ’’

Leia shook her head. “It was a dark presence. The same presence that I just...felt back at Endor. And it’s been watching all of us. I can’t even describe it, Luke, it was like -- ’’

“Like a living shadow,” Luke said.

Leia nodded. “And I have a feeling the more I keep Ben around, the more he’s in danger.” From the living shadow, and himself. It was normal for children to get angry, of course, but there was something about Ben’s anger that already made Leia think of storms on Alderaan, and the rumble of thunder that precluded a lightning flash.

Ben scared her. That was the truth. And it was one of those things that as a mother, she was ashamed of (mothers were supposed to be nurturing, the old expectations went. Mothers weren't supposed to be scared of their own children).

But in the end, the living shadow was the most dangerous.

Leia looked over at Ben, the child who she feared and loved at the same time, who was currently playing X-Wing Pilots with Poe Dameron. She looked at the two of them, giggling, fundamentally innocent, having no idea what the grown-ups were talking about, no doubt. Even watching Ben imitate a pilot, complete with “Gold Five” and “Gold Two” for him and Poe respectively, she wished that whatever this presence was, it would go away and leave their family alone.

For the stars’ sakes.

Leia turned back to look at Luke. “Can you help him?”

“You bet.”

And Leia, even as she said it, felt a mixture of relief and guilt. Ben was too little to understand. Hopefully, he’d understand as he got older.

Leia hoped he could forgive her too.

***

They dropped Ben off on Yavin the next day.

Ben had been only marginally aware of what was happening just through the arguments of his parents, hushed voices in the halls, going on about the matter of abandonment (both his parents seeming to accuse the other of such), and the Voice in the back of his mind, the Voice that had always been there, trying to comfort him. But the next morning, after breakfast, Daddy’s ship dropped off on the jungle planet. Yavin IV, Daddy had taught Ben it was called.

Ben stepped out of the Falcon in that moment.

His mommy turned to look at him, her eyes wide, sad, almost liquid in nature. “Have fun, Ben!” she said, but even then, she seemed to be trying too hard to stay reassuring, for Ben’s sake.

She headed back to the ship.

“No!” Ben ran towards the ship even as it blasted off into the sky. “Come back! Come back!”

He was aware of Uncle Luke’s hand on his shoulder, gentle, coaxing. “It’s okay, Ben. Come on inside. Come on...”

“I want my mommy and daddy...”

“I know, Ben.” Luke’s voice was soft. “Come on inside. There’s a lot of people I want you to meet.”

“Mommy -- ’’

“Your mother will be back soon,” Luke said softly. “Don’t worry.”

Ben wiped his eyes. “I hope so.”

“She will,” Luke said. “She will.”

Uncle Luke headed inside and Ben, sniffling, followed. 


	3. Chapter Two: Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Snoke infiltrates the Jedi Academy, and we get a look into Ben's Academy life. It isn't particularly happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Just a warning, this glimpse into Ben's life at the Academy really isn't a happy one. If that's not your thing, I advise you to turn back while you still can.

Snoke’s shuttle touched down on the landing pad at Yavin IV.

It had been some time, actually, since he had actually come back to a Jedi Academy. The last time he had seen it, it was back on Coruscant, when he had been writing his final letter to Master Yoda telling him why exactly he had to leave the Jedi Order forever.

The idea of returning home -- if one could ever call the Jedi Order “home”; it had been refuge, but that was all it had ever been -- was not something that a broken now-grown being would look forward to. But to find what he had been long searching for, it would be more than worth it. And he was not the broken youngling who had first come there, angry, filled with shame -- he was older, had outlived Yoda himself, and though he was well in decline (though by the standards of humans he had long to live yet), he was strong and had accomplished much.

He was not the boy that had first set out on this journey. He was older, had seen much and known much, and now he was returning home.

There was no one who remembered Aldric of Milara. There would be nothing to fear in that regard. He could choose a new alias, all while on Yavin. It wouldn't be the first time he returned to the hell that was supposed to be home. Just to destroy it. Just to do what should have been done long ago. In terms of destruction, Snoke of the First Order was quite skilled at such things.

And he never had destroyed anything that hadn’t deserved it somehow.

Snoke descended the loading ramp of the shuttle. As he did, he doubted he had seen such green, such lushness, in quite some time. Indeed, it seemed like a lifetime ago.

***  
Outside the Academy, meanwhile, Ben Solo was in trouble.

It had started as just another lesson with the other younglings (and Ben still hated that word. He wasn’t that young; he was four years old! Just because Uncle Luke was like ninety-nine or something didn’t mean he was that young) only for Ben to continue struggling with meditation. He could never get that right. He hated when they had to meditate anyway; what was the point when there was so much to see? And then there was the whole matter of “letting go” -- never mind that he couldn’t let go. He still missed Mommy and Daddy and Poe, even if he occasionally saw them over commcalls and visits from the Falcon, and that wasn’t bad, was it? He wasn’t a Bad Person like on the holovids just because he missed them, right? Or when they played Jedi vs. Sith during recess, and the Sith were scary guys with red lightsabers who went “raaaaaaah” --

And then Jimmy Nichos had to make fun of him.

Ben hadn’t meant to get angry. He hadn’t meant to Force Push Jimmy, but Jimmy had been scaring him, and the Voice had flashed in his mind, telling him that Jimmy could hurt him, especially when Jimmy was taunting him about Darth Vader going to Get Him.

And the horror of it had led Ben to reach out, do anything, anything, to get Jimmy out of his face, and he had pushed him.

Ben Solo knew that he had done a Bad Thing. The looks on the faces of the others said it all. And he couldn't be around anyone else. He could hurt them next. He was a Freak, after all. A “minefield waiting to go off”, as Naris had said.

So he ran.

Ben ducked out of the Academy, wiping at his eyes

_there is no e-mo-shun, there is peace. that was how the first line of the Code went, right? The Code, which seemed like an ever-present shadow hovering over them..._

heading towards the gardens --

\-- and collided with someone much larger than himself. A giant, actually. Then again, Ben thought, everyone was taller and stronger than you when you were four.

“Sorry, sir!” Ben had been so wrapped up in his frustration that he’d almost forgotten that there was a hooded figure in his path. He thought he could see an outline of a pale, humanoid face under the hood, with large, luminous eyes.

“No harm done,” said the figure, and his voice was deep, soft, not unpleasant to listen to, and Ben felt oddly at ease despite himself. “Is everything all right?”

“Y-yeah.” Ben was starting to calm down in spite of himself.

“What is your name, small one?”

“Ben. And who are you, sir?”

Underneath his hood, the creature seemed to smile. “My name is Jacen. Jacen Yana. I’m a new addition to this...fascinating Academy of yours.” He looked around; his eyes seemed almost luminous under his cloak, especially against his pale skin. “It is...beautiful here, isn’t it? I can’t say that I’ve seen green in some time in my travels.”

“It’s not that special,” Ben said. Absently, he kicked at a pebble by his toe.

Yana seemed to tilt his head, reminding Ben almost of a particularly curious kath hound pup. And there still managed to be some dignity in the act, Ben realized. He had such a dignified, almost kingly look to him -- something that Ben could never have. At age four, after all, nobody took you seriously, or cared.

“Is there something wrong?” Yana’s voice was surprisingly gentle. The first one besides Uncle Luke and Aunt Alora to actually make him feel at ease.

“No. N-not really.” Tears were brimming in Ben’s eyes, and he wished they wouldn’t do that. Crying in front of someone was like a form of public humiliation. “I -- I mean, being away from home is hard -- ’’

“Is it?” Gentleness. Softness. And to Ben’s embarrassment, he felt wetness on his cheeks.

“Y-yeah.”

Ben started to talk, about how he had been dumped here on Yavin IV, how the others thought he was just some sort of spoiled brat (Master Naris was one of them) just because he couldn’t control his emotions, how they talked about fear leading to The Dark Side, and how he had hurt Jim, and he wondered if that meant they were right, even if it had felt like reflex, even though Jim was looming in his face and scaring him (despite being only seven, he was taller than Ben Solo, everyone was) -- and he trailed off. He was probably being a Freak or a Spoiled Brat again, like the Masters said.

“I -- I’m sorry.”

“No, do go on,” said Yana. “Tell me about what happened.”

And he was so kind in that moment that Ben found himself pouring out everything else until he was all but a sobbing wreck. He felt Yana’s hand stroke his hair, and it felt nice. Reassuring, actually.

“They sound like they don’t understand you,” said Yana. “They sound...cruel to you, actually. And they don’t seem to understand younglings like you either.”

“Like me?”

“Like you, yes,” said Yana.

“Ben!”

Uncle Luke’s voice. He ran towards Ben in that moment, and the look in his eyes -- it scared Ben. Was he going to be in trouble for running away?

But Uncle Luke hugged him quickly. “You scared the life out of me.”

“It’s okay, Uncle. He’s nice.” Ben tugged at Yana’s sleeve. “This is Yana. Jay-sun Yana.”

“Hello.” Uncle Luke seemed to be bothered. His brows were furrowed a bit, like he was angry at Yana or something. Or Ben. Was Uncle Luke still angry at him for running off?

“Hello,” Yana said. “I was heading up the path when I found your student.”

“My nephew. I...suppose I should appreciate you finding him when you did,” Uncle Luke said. He turned to look at Ben. “Come on, Ben,” he said, softer, “We’ll...talk about Jim.”

Heading up the path, Ben still couldn’t get rid of the feeling of his uncle being mad at him. He always seemed to be mad at him, or worried, when Ben wasn’t medi-tat-ing (Ben couldn’t pronounce that word well. It sometimes came out as medi-gating or something like that) right. The other kids seemed to be doing all right with that, but Ben didn’t seem to. It was just another sign that he was the Freak in the class.

He wouldn’t always be.

Whatever happened, he would try to get his anger under control, try and make his uncle proud, not angry. And everyone else too.


	4. Chapter Three: Commcall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Snoke continues his infiltration, and Ben has some insecurity issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Not gonna lie, I can't write kids very well. So Ben's voice was pretty difficult. Hope you enjoy nonetheless!

The Jedi Order had been a shelter of sorts, but never truly home.

Even continuing up the path towards the Jedi Enclave, it was just a reminder of the times at the temple on Coruscant, when he had first been there. He had been a youngling then, coming from a background of living in war, and he had never really adjusted to the whole matter of the Enclave. They preached patience and suppressing your emotions. It was something that, Snoke knew, he was never able to do.

Master Skywalker was already talking about the Enclave. “...we managed to get it rebuilt not long after the Empire was defeated at Jakku...”

Snoke could have laughed. Defeated? The Empire had suffered a minor setback, but they were never truly defeated. The First Order still held them anyway, in their hearts -- they never forgot what Luke Skywalker had done, from destroying the Death Star

_and Snoke wondered how, with his hands swimming in that much red, he could call them clean_

to ultimately murdering Vader and the Emperor both. It burned for them, like fire. It was the fire that drove them forward, the fire that drove them onwards, the fire that kept them together.

But instead of laughing, Snoke kept his face perfectly composed and said, “Indeed?”

“Yeah,” Luke said. “It’s still starting out, but hopefully, it will grow into something extraordinary.” A smile. “Actually, I have the utmost faith.”

 _Such arrogance._ Skywalker seemed to have a complete ignorance of history -- how the Order had fallen time and time again thanks to their arrogance. Then again, perhaps that was all part of a Jedi?

The Jedi Order would have to be torn down. Even as Snoke headed past a Jedi Master reproving one of his students for an accident with a practice saber, Padawans practicing in the courtyard, he knew that they represented nothing more than more suffering for the galaxy.

After all, the Jedi had never been there to help the galaxy when they were most needed. How would rebuilding the Order do anything except condemn the galaxy to more destruction?

It was heading inside, into the lightsaber workshop, that Snoke saw a droid that he most definitely had not expected to see again.

Huyang. Then again, the droid was incredibly resilient. It was no wonder he had survived the Purge. Besides, droids were not flesh. Droids could be repaired. Still, Snoke could not say that he had seen Huyang since --

_No. That boy is gone. That boy is dead. He deserves to be dead._

“Huyang,” said Skywalker, “This is Jacen Yana. He’s one of our recent inductees into the Academy. Yana, this is Huyang.”

Yes, I know. And I did not expect to see him again, of all beings. It seemed that it truly was a small galaxy. Or it was the matter of the Force taking you every which way it wished.

“A pleasure to meet you,” said Huyang.

Snoke could have sworn that the droid’s eyes could see right through him in that moment. Huyang was no Jedi, no Force sensitive, but he was no fool. He could still remember the kindly, wise, occasionally sarcastic droid that he had met when he had constructed his first lightsaber. It had been a golden blade, as radiant as Tatooine’s two suns, double-bladed, staff-like. Huyang had commented how similar it had been to the Jedi Bastila Shan’s lightsaber. “A design I cannot say I have seen in...decades, actually.”

He had left that lightsaber behind when he had left. It was part of Aldric, Aldric of Melian, and had no place being there. Aldric was a weak boy, wretched, low, and he was not the leader that the galaxy needed. He had built another one, still double-bladed, only with a violet crystal. A balance between light and dark.

He had changed the crystal for now; after all, one did not simply walk into the Jedi Order with a red lightsaber. When one saw a red lightsaber, they knew that pain and suffering were soon to follow. Had he been leading a raid, that would have been appropriate enough. But he was trying to keep a low profile. Even the Emperor had waited to reveal his lightsaber. It was a violet crystal once again for Snoke’s lightsaber as Jacen Yana -- a blend of the Jedi and the Sith. Snoke was Dark Side, without a doubt, but he was not Sith. Sith was too simple to describe who he was. He, Snoke without-a-family, Snoke of the First Order, Supreme Leader -- he was far beyond such simplistic labels.

Those of the Dark Side were not the ones who thought in absolutes, after all.

“A Milaran.” Huyang’s voice was calm, jarring Snoke out of his thoughts. “Interesting. I confess that I have not had a Milaran Jedi ever since...well, before the Clone Wars began.”

Even the mentioning of that was enough to make Snoke disgusted. The Clone Wars...just another build-up of disappointments until finally, things came undone. The war itself at least had taught the right lesson, the lesson that others should have learned all along, before the Rebellion had ruined things almost completely. The galaxy would have been better, genuinely, if the Empire had stood -- the Empire would have healed the wounds of this galaxy and made it stronger, better than before.

But he kept his face calm, almost like a sabaac player. “Interesting. Do you know why?”

“I don’t know,” Huyang said. “Though certain members of Milara...they were reluctant to let the younglings train to be Jedi. There was...one, who was rescued from an orphanage.”

Rescued was one way to put it.

“Your design does remind me of that Jedi,” said Huyang. “A remarkable Jedi. A pity he left, actually; he could have been one of the best of our Order.”

Snoke suppressed a growl of irritation. Huyang...he was acting so much like Yoda had. Acting as if he had fallen, when indeed, he had seen the truth, when he had had a moment of more clarity than he had in the beginning years of his life, or while he had been in the Order for that matter. And this droid...he sounded disappointed.

But he kept his face calm, and his voice as well. “What happened to him?”

“He left. He was not one of the Lost Twenty; those were Masters. But there were others who left -- Padawans who cut ties, Knights who left. Anakin Skywalker was the last one, and he...well, he was definitely the greatest loss.”

“I see.”

Then again, the Jedi never truly understood, did they? The depth of Anakin Skywalker’s courage, in trying to stop the Jedi from staging their own coup so they could form their own dictatorship. They never understood all he sacrificed, all he gave, to make sure that the Empire stood strong. Before Luke had killed him.

Luke Skywalker had not raised his lightsaber and struck him down as he could have, but he had planted the seeds of lies in Vader’s mind. Until the man had killed himself, taking the Emperor and the promise of order with him. Luke Skywalker was dangerous, not for his skills with the Force and a lightsaber -- compared to others, he was still learning -- but for his words. He could order one to march to their death and that dejarik piece would do it gladly.

But Snoke did not say anything like that. Instead, he said, “Sentiment can be dangerous, can it not?”

“Well, yes,” said Huyang. “If I can recall, he was always an impetuous one.”

“How many Jedi have you taught?”

“Plenty,” Huyang said. “Over the years. They are trials, but also joys.”

***

It was long after the day was over that Ben contacted his mother, or rather, his mommy contacted him.

The best way that Ben could describe the visits from his daddy were as if they were visits from someone he had occasionally heard about in stories, visits from a legend. Visits from a man who had haunted some of his dreams about arguments and nightmares about a strange man in black. A charismatic, handsome legend who always looked happy to see him, occasionally cracking a joke about something or other, telling stories about his races, things of that nature. Occasionally standing off to the side watching Ben train, and Ben knew he would do anything -- yes, anything -- just to get that smile from Han Solo. The sort of smile that suggested that he was remarkable, wonderful, priceless, and Han could not be more proud of him.

And the same went for his mommy too. Visits from a princess that he had heard about in stories, visits where he knew he would do anything to get the same smile.

His mommy looked tired, but nonetheless smiled even as she looked at him. “Hi, Ben.”

“Hi, Mommy.” He couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under her eyes, and he said, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She smiled, a bit too much like she was trying to force it. “How are things over in Jedi-land?”

“Fine. I mean, I’ve made some friends and all. But...” He looked away from her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I -- you’re not gonna be mad at me, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“I got in a fight with Jimmy again.” And he started pouring out the same story that he had already told Mr. Yana, and all the while he was afraid -- would Mommy be mad at him?

Mommy took a deep breath.

“Jimmy Nichos is just a bully, Ben. Really. That being said...you can’t really solve problems by pushing people. It’s not how it works.”

“I thought he was trying to hurt me, Mommy.”

Mommy’s eyes widened. Then, “What you did is understandable, Ben.”

“Uncle Luke tells me not to use the Force for that. He says it can lead to the Dark Side.” Ben’s voice shook even as he said it. He knew he didn’t want to be on the Dark Side. Annie and Thomas, who were in his other classes, said he wouldn’t, but there were times it seemed that if Ben so much as broke a rule...

“I think Uncle Luke’s trying to look out for you, honey,” Mommy said. “Just like Daddy and me.”

“I guess so.” It occurred to Ben then, about Daddy -- there had been times when it seemed that Mommy and Daddy were angry at each other. Ben could feel it, sense it. Uncle Luke said he also had to be careful about his power for Reading Minds (like minds were a holobook? Ben didn’t know that part from his lessons) as it was Dangerous and could be Misused. It wasn’t like he was trying to do it, though. It just happened, and Ben couldn’t say it made any sense. A lot of people’s thoughts didn’t make sense anyway, actually. It was as if there was a whole world in their heads that Ben could hardly understand, and that was scary to him.

“Are you and Daddy -- ’’

“We’re all right, Ben,” his mother said. “We’re going through a bit of a bad time.”

That was true. But when would the bad times ever end? Mommy and Daddy seemed to fight all the time, and even when they weren’t fighting, they didn’t seem to like each other very much.

His mother continued. “Everyone has them. Just like you have your good days and your bad days, we have our good times and our bad times.”

“You shouldn’t have bad days.”

His mother smiled a bit, but there was a hint of melancholy. “That’s a bit of a tall order, Ben. Everyone has bad days. It’s what you do with them that matters.”

“I’m not...doing anything bad, am I?”

A flicker of unease seemed to come across his mother’s face briefly, and it was gone as quickly as one could snap their fingers. “No. Of course not, sweetie. Everyone deals with bad days differently.”

“I guess so.”

“It’s just your first time here, Ben,” Mommy said. “It’ll be fine.”

Ben bit his lip.

“I better get to bed,” Mommy said. “I have a meeting tomorrow. Whatever happens, you’ll be a wonderful Jedi, Ben.” She smiled, and for a moment, Ben almost believed it. “You really will.”

“I hope so. Goodnight, Mommy.”

“Goodnight, sweetie.”

The comm shut off, and Ben snuggled up in bed, his stuffed Wookiee (one of his possessions that had been dropped off at the Enclave) hugged close to him. He would be a good Jedi, he really would. He wouldn’t lash out at Jimmy or read minds. He’d be a good Jedi, and Uncle Luke would be proud of him.

He hoped.

***

Leia signed off, rubbed her temples. She still hated being parted from Ben. Even if it was for the best. Even if it meant protecting him from that living shadow. However she could, she would protect him from that living shadow, even if it meant keeping him away from her. Even if it meant the sort of anger in Han that seemed to simmer under the surface of their conversations.

_Force, if you’re out there, take care of my little boy. However you can._

She could still feel the living shadow, like a sweltering heat, pure Tatooine heat, like being out in the desert on Jabba’s sail barge. And she turned towards it and challenged it.

_You won’t have my son._

A chuckle, almost amiable in nature, which only made Leia feel as if pins and needles trailed up her spine. _Will I? We’ll see._


	5. Chapter Four: A Visit To The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leia does some detective work on her family, and we get a bit of a lighter look into the relationship between Ben and his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"I’m looking for books on Padme Amidala.”

That was what she had to go on. That was what she had to look for. Just a name that Bail Organa had told her long ago. Bail Organa would always be her real father, and Breha Organa would always be her real mother, but there was so much about her history that Leia Organa-Solo simply did not know.

The Ithorian librarian looked up at her. “Those are pretty hard to find,” she said. “Most of the Empire tried to annihilate them. But we managed to recover a few. A History of the Clone Wars is a good place to start.”

It was long after thumbing through pages about the Trade Federation that Leia finally got to the section about her mother -- a young girl, fourteen years old, elaborately dressed and possessing a sort of grace and dignity that one wouldn’t expect in a girl that age.

The reading started out fine, fascinating even. It was a relief to get a face, even a voice for that matter, to the woman who had mostly shown up in blurry impressions in Leia’s dreams

_not that they were disquieting impressions, but even so, it was nice to have a face and a voice_

but it was later on, getting to Tatooine, that Leia froze. Because her mother, dressed in peasants’ clothing, sitting on an eopie and laughing next to a sandy-haired little boy that reminded Leia almost of Ben

_though Ben’s hair was dark where this boy’s was light_

had a caption underneath it -- Padme Amidala with future Jedi Anakin Skywalker, before the podrace.

Leia could have frozen in place. This was Anakin Skywalker, the future Darth Vader? He looked too innocent, she thought. She didn’t know what she expected, the sort of person who would be tying grenades to bantha tails or anything like that, kids like in those holovids that she occasionally watched at the Rebel base on Hoth before it had ultimately been raided

_again, by her father, although “father” was a title he didn't deserve_

children who sang creepy songs and hurt innocent creatures. But instead, he was covered in grime but beaming even as he embraced her mother. Leia’s eyes drifted to the caption again: The youngest winner of a podrace with Queen Padme Amidala.

Her mother looked so very innocent as well. Her hair done up in simple braids, braids that reminded Leia too much of her own hair, and beaming. She was proud of Anakin, for what he had done -- that much was obvious.

Leia stepped away, looked away from the book for just a moment. She simply couldn’t picture Darth Vader, the man who had tortured her, the man who had stood by and watched as Alderaan had been destroyed, the man who had killed multiple Rebel soldiers, tortured Han, and committed so many more atrocities that one could not simply count on one hand, as innocent, once upon a time.

Every bit of evil has to start from somewhere.

And yet this...all of this was something that Leia knew she wasn’t ready to accept. Not yet.

She turned back to the book, continuing to pore over her mother’s history, the memories of a woman she had mostly seen in dreams, in nightmares.

***

It was while Yana was tutoring Ben, Thomas and Annie in regards to levitating objects -- something Ben was still trying to master -- that he said, “So Ben...what exactly happened between you and your uncle earlier? You seemed quite upset.”

Ben shrugged. “Uncle Luke just doesn't like my using my abilities. I didn’t mean to, really; I just picked it up -- ’’ It had been a stray thought about Mommy on Uncle Luke’s part, about how she seemed to be having Issues with her biological father, who died before Ben was born, but that was as far as he got before he hit something else -- Uncle Luke reciting names of planets. Alderaan, Coruscant, Dantooine... That had been the first in the sequence, before Uncle Luke had gently told him that some thoughts were Private and you couldn’t just go searching in someone’s minds because you Felt Like It.

Never mind that it had been an accident. Ben had been working on it, trying to focus on other things, but other people’s thoughts seemed to be a whole mess of words and images, nothing truly comprehensible.

“I daresay he’s too harsh on you.”

“Well, I shouldn't -- ’’

“You didn’t do it on purpose, Ben,” said Yana. “And besides, you have incredible gifts. It would be a shame for you to waste them.”

The Falcon landed. Ben could feel it outside. Ben turned to Yana, grinning. “My daddy’s here,” he said.

“Is he?”

“Yeah.” Even as they headed outside, Ben said, “It’s the fastest ship ever. It beat the Kessel Run in twelve parsecs!”

Yana looked skeptical for a moment before smiling. “It sounds like quite the ship.”

“It is!” Ben grinned.

It was then that his daddy headed down the loading ramp, beaming, and Ben ran to him.

“Hey there, Ben!” Daddy practically beamed even as he hugged Ben, though his smile faded a bit even as Mr. Yana approached.

Daddy’s brow furrowed. He had a certain look of distrust to him, almost as if he saw something in Mr. Yana that he didn’t like somehow. Then again, what was there to distrust? After all, Mr. Yana was nice, wasn’t he? He seemed to like Ben, Annie and Thomas well enough, at least. Mr. Yana also seemed to look at him with some sort of contempt before assembling his face into a more pleasant expression. “Captain Solo. What an unexpected pleasure.”

“Who are you?” Daddy said.

“He’s Mr. Yana. Mr. Yana, this is -- ’’

“Your father, yes,” Yana said. “His reputation precedes him.” A pause. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Solo.”

“Nice to meet you too. So, Ben,” Daddy said, “How are things over here?”

Even as they went inside, Ben talked at length about everything, including the new skills he learned over the course of the lessons.

“Oh, wow.” Daddy grinned. “You’re on a roll, Ben, my man.”

Ben grinned despite himself as well. There was something about what Daddy said in that moment, Daddy’s faith in him, that was enough to lift Ben’s spirits. Uncle Luke seemed to worry about him a lot as did Mommy, but Daddy and Master Yana and Thomas and Annie had the utmost faith in him, and that was enough.

The other kids were still working on their lightsabers. Ben turned towards Daddy and said, “I’d like to have a real one...one day.”

“When you’re older, kiddo,” and though Daddy said it with a smile, there was definitely some unease, as if the idea of a kid carrying a lightsaber was strange. But what was so strange about it? Ben wasn’t bad with a lightsaber, after all. He was getting better with it, Uncle Luke said so himself.

“There’s three classes,” Ben said, and he went on about what exactly he did know in regards to the matter of Jedi classes: The Guardian, The Sentinel and the Consular. “I’d like to be a Gar-dee-an,” he said. “I want to protect people.”

Daddy grinned. “Right on, kiddo. Tell you what -- I think you'll make an awesome Guardian, and an awesome Jedi.”

"Really?"

"Cross my heart."

It was long after showing Daddy around the workshop, and introducing him to the others, and catching up with him on his missions and other things that Daddy had to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow, kiddo,” he said. “I promise.”

“Okay.”

And as usual, Ben wished that Daddy didn’t have to go. He understood why, of course; Daddy had Big Things to do, but he still wished that he could stay a while longer. Still, he supposed he should be grateful that Daddy even came here. Thomas and Annie’s parents couldn’t, for whatever reason. Annie didn’t like talking about it, and Thomas was still hoping that maybe his mommy would come back one day.

Ben knew that one day, he would become a Guardian. To protect people, save the galaxy -- he would do anything to do that. The questions from Master Huyang were coming up in time. Ben just hoped he would pass them. 


	6. Chapter Five: Insomniac Philosophizing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leia can't sleep, Han has weird dreams, and the two of them have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Thought that I would do a bit of a follow-up on Leia's research on her parents. It's pretty cool, getting into her head, it really is.

Despite the shock she had experienced with reading A History of the Clone Wars, it didn’t stop Leia from researching her history. Perhaps it had been a desire to know more, so much more about a part of herself that still felt so splintered off, but she found herself, in between communiques with Ben (who was now a Jedi Guardian, something he was very proud of, and Leia was proud with him) and Senate meetings, picking up books on her heritage and researching them.

The more she investigated, the more she found. Transcripts from her mother’s Senate meetings, for starters, her arguing her case on behalf of Naboo, or arguing against violence against the Separatists.

Her father’s history of being a slave, his role in the Clone Wars as a Jedi, the good he had done, and it was still hard to reconcile the man who had tortured her and later those she loved with the man who had once been a Jedi. He hadn’t given her any special gifts, he hadn’t been kind to her, there was nothing that could really complicate the relationship between them -- except the matter of his redemption, and the history she’d found.

She could feel compassion for Anakin Skywalker the slave, at least. What he had endured (and it had been wrong, so very wrong, that nobody had thought to free the slaves on Tatooine, that the Jedi were too focused on other things to even think about freeing the slaves, doing something) was horrific, something no child could endure. The rest...in the end, Leia Organa-Solo couldn’t say she knew what to feel. A mixture of Anakin the slave and Vader the monster...it was a sort of mixture that she doubted that she could cope with.

It was long after she was trying to get to sleep, images from her readings dancing in front of her eyes, images of Alderaan exploding once again

_Father I’m so sorry, I failed you, I couldn’t save you_

images of Vader’s mask looming in front of her eyes, that she sighed, exasperated, and headed towards the console. She missed Han anyway. Ben too. It was the sort of guilt and loneliness that she had to pay for keeping Ben safe. She could still feel the living shadow all but smothering her, scorching heat like on the sail barge, saying nothing but she knew it was watching, it was waiting. At least Ben was away from it. Thank the stars.

She dialed the Falcon’s terminal and waited.

And waited.

The living shadow, meanwhile, spoke to her. _You can’t keep Ben Solo from me forever, Senator. Sooner or later, he will come to join me. Sooner or later, he will understand._

“He’ll never join you.”

_We shall see, Senator. We shall see._

Over the terminal, she heard Han faintly murmur, “No, Jabba, get someone else to feed the rancor” (what was that dream about?) before he stumbled towards the console screen, clearly bleary, tired, and still clearly having slept in his usual clothes, his hair a mess. He never seemed to have any pajamas lying around the Falcon, Leia thought with a smile. He seemed to be wearing those same clothes day after day, ever since she met him. It was one of those unique traits of the man that she had eventually fallen in love with.

“Hey, Han,” she said. “Did I wake you?”

“A bit.” Han rubbed his eyes, yawned. “Not that you interrupted anything good, though. Dreamed I was back with Jabba again.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.” Even nine years later, Leia still had bad memories of being on that sail barge, dressed in that humiliating gold bikini. It had been safe to say that she had never worn it again.

“Yeah. So, what’s up, sweetheart? You look like you have something on your mind.”

Leia smiled weakly. In spite of herself, she liked this conversation. It reminded her of the early days of their marriage, she twenty-five, Han thirty-five, seeing the stars together, and the early days of parenthood, before things had...not exactly split them apart, but there was a certain amount of damage to their relationship that occasionally simmered below the surface.

“I’ve been reading up on my parents,” Leia said. “My...birth parents.” She hesitated to say “real parents”. It simply felt wrong to call them that, when her birth mother had died giving birth to her, and her birth father had tortured her. The latter was the sort that she couldn’t forgive, still. It wasn’t the sort of thing that her birth father could simply wash his hands of. It didn’t work like that.

“You have, huh?” Han’s eyes softened. “You found anything?”

Even recapping what she had found, from her mother’s speeches to her father’s history, Leia still couldn’t say she knew what to think. She could pity the child that her father was, but the adult Vader...

The adult Vader was still someone she doubted she could forgive.

She couldn’t summon up better memories of him when there was nothing there, nothing but the bad he had done her, she couldn’t recall good times of fatherhood when he simply hadn’t been there...you couldn’t get anything from nothing, as an old saying went. And you couldn’t lose anything where there was nothing there to begin with.

“...and I can’t forgive him, Han,” Leia said. “Luke probably wants me to forgive him, but some things...he wasn’t there on the bridge when...” She trailed off. Even remembering Vader holding her back was still one of her worst memories, that feeling of helplessness even as Tarkin gave the order to fire. Knowing she couldn’t save her friends and family and had good as doomed them.

And then there was Han. Hearing him screaming and feeling helpless to do anything, the day he was frozen in carbonite...that was another thing she doubted she could forgive her father for. Luke too, what he had done to Luke, cutting off his hand; she could still remember the days where she had helped him try and get used to the absence of his flesh hand. There was too much she couldn’t forgive her father for. Too much there.

“And you don’t have to forgive him, Leia.” Han’s voice was soft even as he said it.

“Thank you.” Leia sighed. “I don’t forgive him, but I do feel sorry for the boy he was. I mean, nobody deserves anything like that.”

“No.” Han’s voice was quiet. “They don’t, Leia. They really don’t. Way I see it, I can feel sorry for the kid Vader was. It doesn’t mean that I have to feel sorry for the adult -- I mean, the adult was a monster, no mistake.”

Leia nodded. Somehow, it felt good to have that acknowledged, validated.

“But the kid...yeah. No one deserves that.”

“No.” Leia took a deep breath. “We can’t tell Ben. Not yet. When he’s ready.”

“He deserves to know -- ’’

“He does.” She thought of Ben, little Ben, tiny Ben, innocent Ben, with a lot of brightness in him and enthusiasm, and springing that news on him...it would only break his heart. She would protect him as long as she could, no matter what happened. “But not immediately. When he’s older, Han. When he’s ready.”

 


	7. Chapter Six: Come To Grips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leia struggles to come to a form of resolution over what her father did, and Han had problems of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Trigger warning for in-canon violence (in other words, the Mustafar scene).

For the next few days, the next few years, whenever she could, Leia did what she could in order to get in her worth of research. It was one of those things that she knew was unhealthy and yet she needed to know. Perhaps she needed answers. Yes. She did fundamentally need answers. There was so much that was a mystery, so much left unknown, so much that she had been carefully kept from until she was twenty-three years old.

 

So much she needed to understand.

 

The more she dug, the more she found. Her mother’s speeches in the Senate during the Clone Wars. Her father’s battles. Even some things from Pooja Naberrie and Ryoo Naberrie when she had spoken to them both, which had still left her wondering how a young man who could have been kind to two kids as Pooja and Ryoo both had recounted, who could have spent time in meadows and such, could have become that monster. There were times she tried to picture Vader in a meadow, and she couldn’t.

 

Still, she got a better glimpse of her mother. The more that people talked about her, the more that Leia could get a better glimpse of her, not just of someone out of dreams, someone who had somehow loved Darth Vader

 

_how could anyone love that man?_

 

but a fully fledged person, a woman who had been brave and kind and noble. A woman who was a good aunt to her nieces. A woman who was a brave and noble Senator and Queen, someone who was intelligent and clever. Leia could see her more fully realized in her mind, and she was grateful.

 

Leia still couldn’t say she knew how to feel about her father being more fully realized. Other than wondering how exactly the man who had been so kind and polite at the Naberries’ house had become that monster.

 

Leia’s answers came sooner than she thought.

 

It had been a matter of poring through old recordings Artoo had, usually sweeter moments between her birth parents, and Leia had been getting tenser by the moment. Just watching the both of them, one twenty-two, one twenty-seven, interacting together, laughing, joking, saying meaninglessly sweet things...

 

“How, Artoo?” It was after the recordings ended that Leia finally managed to speak. “How did this man become...that monster?”

 

Artoo dwooed mournfully. It was clear that the astromech didn’t have a clear answer for that either.

 

“What happened to them?” Leia said. “My birth parents...my birth mother, what happened to her? How did she die?”

 

The answer came in the last recording that Artoo had. The planet there was practically alight with lava and fire, all of it seeming to spring everywhere except for the platform where her birth father, not yet in the Vader suit, and her birth mother, heavily pregnant, met, as if sheltered from the fires leaping around them.

 

And Leia watched the scene unfold. Watched it all. Her mother, trying to talk some sense into her father. Her father, talking about ruling the galaxy with her mother, making things the way they wanted them to be. Her mother, realizing the truth and breaking down in tears even as her father accused her of turning against him. Obi-Wan, showing up on the ramp of the ship, and her father

 

_choking_

_her_

_mother_

 

until Obi-Wan shouted at him to let her go and her father did.

 

Leia finally found her voice, when her father started accusing Obi-Wan of turning her against him, and said, “Artoo, thank you. I think I’ve seen enough.”

 

The astromech turned off the recording.

 

Leia sat in silence for a long time, feeling for a moment as if her head were an X-wing that had veered drastically off course, and she had to right it again. She looked around, trying to reaffirm she was still in that room and not on that terrible place on Mustafar.

 

It didn’t stop the shock roaring in her ears.

 

How could he? To her, his own wife, to us...

 

“He killed her,” Leia said.

 

Artoo beeped a negative.

 

“It was right there! He choked her, and for what?”

 

“SHE DIDN’T DIE UNTIL LATER ON POLIS MASSA,” Artoo said. “IT WAS PSYCHOSOMATIC.”

 

“So either way, he still killed her. He still killed his own wife. And he tried to kill me and Luke.” Leia forced breaths into her lungs. “How could he?” After all, as bad as the fights between her and Han got, Han never laid a hand on her or Ben. Or anything else.

 

“I DON’T KNOW,” Artoo said.

 

The astromech scooted up beside her, a solid, comforting presence even as Leia tried to regain herself after what she had seen.

 

***

 

It was heading back from the races that Han got the call from Leia. She had been talking to him whenever she needed to, whenever she just needed someone to rely on, and from the look on her face, wide-eyed, distraught, she needed to talk to him badly.

 

“What is it?” Han said, gently. “What’s wrong, Leia?”

 

“I found something,” Leia said.

 

“In your history? You wanna talk about it?”

 

Leia took a deep breath, and yet even that didn’t seem to calm her. “I...I saw...” She sounded like she was just straining to get it out, actually. “I saw my own father trying to kill my mother. She was pregnant at the time.”

 

And Han Solo felt as if he had suddenly been punched in the chest. The world seemed to detach from him in that moment

 

_my own father-in-law tried to kill Leia, the bastard tried to kill Luke and Leia both, tried to kill their mother_

 

and when he finally spoke, his voice sounded like a rasp of shock. “He what?”

 

Leia told him, and Han already felt the anger start to boil inside him. His own wife, his own two babies...three things that were so unmistakably precious to him and he tried to kill them...

 

“Leia...” He wished that they weren’t just separated by terminal screens so they could actually reach out and comfort and be comforted. “Stanging hell, Leia. How could he?”

 

“I don’t know. I...” Leia took a deep breath. “I don't even know how he became a monster in the first place. I mean, he claimed that he didn’t want her to die -- ’’

 

“And yet he good as killed her anyway.”

 

“Artoo said it was psychosomatic,” Leia said. “But you’re right. I was thinking it too. Even if somehow the Force choke didn’t kill her, he good as killed her.” She blinked, almost as if she was trying to keep her composure. “How could he?”

 

That was a damn good question, actually. Family...the thing about family is you took care of them, cherished them

 

_like you’re doing right now, Han? a nastier voice in the back of his mind said but that voice didn’t get it. he wanted the best for Ben and Leia, for them to be happy_

_and that’s any better than Vader? the voice said. but at least he wasn’t trying to hurt or kill anyone. He wasn’t like Vader, not at all_

 

and you never ever did anything to hurt them.

 

“I don’t know. But I know this. You are way too good for him. You and Luke are more than he ever deserved.

Because you are one of the bravest, kindest, funniest women I’ve ever met. Because you’re amazing. And your ‘dad’ can’t grind that out of you. He never could.” A beat. “And Luke...he’s a wonderful person as well. He makes twelve of his ‘dad’.”

 

“He really does.” Silence. “We won’t tell Ben, will we? I mean, it’s better for him that way. Being away from his grandfather...”

 

“Exactly. Not a word.” It would be better for Ben that way. Ben deserved to keep his innocence. And he deserved to be as far away from his grandfather as possible. Like Vader was just something ugly in the past, something that wasn't going to matter as they got on with their lives. He wasn’t worth it. He never was.

 

And they would keep Ben away from him as long as it took.


	8. Chapter 7: For Granted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leia goes to therapy, and Han continues to come to grips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Leia's therapist here is a bit of a reference to Susan Forward. I recommend my flist check out some of her books; they're excellent.

“How are you feeling, Senator?”

Doctor Forward’s office was a place that Leia went to when she was done with her Senate meetings. It was a simple little room on Coruscant, on the third floor of the Forward Building. Leia had been going there ever since her pregnancy with Ben had forced her to take a long and uncomfortable look at the matter of her father, as well as well as the matter of her and Ben.  
  
Leia looked around the office, forcing herself to take in every object before finally saying, “Not all right. What I saw...it shocked me."  
  
  
“You’ve been researching more of your past, haven’t you?”

  
Leia nodded. And even launching into a story that felt as if she had told it a thousand times over instead of two, she felt herself shaking.  
  
Doctor Forward was quiet for a moment. Then, when she finally spoke, it was soft, full of pity. “Senator...”  
  
“I just don’t forgive him,” Leia said. “I can feel sorry for the boy he was, but the man he was is a monster. He committed too much wrong. I know Luke forgives him but I...I just can’t.”

  
  
“It’s horrendous,” Doctor Forward said. “What he did to you and Luke. You don’t have to forgive him, Leia. If your brother wants to forgive him, that’s his choice. And if you don't, that’s your choice, and frankly, I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you didn't forgive him. To kill a child or attempt to kill one is one of the worst things you can do, and your father doesn't get to wash his hands of it just because of one selfless act.”

  
“Exactly!” And Leia couldn't help but get fired up again despite herself.

“He doesn’t.”  
  
“Your brother hasn't’ been pressuring you to forgive him, has he?”

  
“No,” Leia said. “Luke’s been wonderful, he really has. He’s never pressured me to do anything that I don't want to do. I guess I just wonder...should I tell him?”

  
“Do you think he’d react well?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Leia said. “I can’t say I know how he’d react to the recording Artoo has. It’s probably best I show him only when he’s ready to handle it. I don't want to just spring it on him.”

  
“Whatever works for you,” said Forward. “Is it also possible you could find a way to resolve your feelings towards your father? Write a letter to him, perhaps.”

  
“He’s been dead for a decade.”  
  
“You don’t have to send it. But writing it out could help.”  
  
Silence.

Then Leia said, “Yes. I could.”  
  
It was at home that Leia looked at her datapad, not knowing where exactly to begin. There was so much to sort through.

Even typing “Dear Father” seemed wrong somehow. Finally, she began typing:  
  
_To the man who was once Darth Vader..._  
  
***

  
In truth, going to see Ben was enough to really drive home how vulnerable Luke and Leia were. Not that Ben was just in the womb as Luke and Leia were back during the whole matter of the Mustafar incident, but even walking through the courtyard of Yavin IV’s Academy, looking at Ben and how trusting and little he was, it only made him angrier with Vader.  
  
They were only children. They were only children...  
  
“Daddy,” Ben said, “Are you feeling all right?”  
  
Han forced a smile. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m okay. Don’t worry, Ben; Daddy’s just going through a rough patch. He’s worried about Mommy.”  
  
“Oh.” A furrow appeared between the boy’s eyes -- too much like Leia’s, Han thought. Except for the hair (which he got from his paternal grandmother Belle Solo) and the freckles, he was almost a spitting image of both Han and Leia. Even had Han’s nose and ears, two things about Han he hadn’t liked much about himself when he was younger. It had been when he was older it all evened out, and Han was glad. “Is Mommy okay? She’s sad, isn’t she?”  
  
Nothing gets by that kid, does it? “Yeah. So, how have things been going, kiddo?”  
  
And even as Ben recounted the events of his latest days at the Academy, Han could not help but smile, being caught up in Ben’s story. And he promised himself, as he had once again, to make sure Ben and Leia were safe.  
  
_Can you, Han?_ a part of him said. _Can you? Or are you just neglecting them again? Are you no better than --_  
  
_Shut up_. He wasn’t Vader. He never would be. He wasn’t anything like that bastard, the man who had ruined Luke and Leia’s lives --  
  
_Oh, you haven’t hurt them. But how do you know you’re doing the right thing?  
How do you know you can't see what’s right in front of you?_


	9. Chapter 8: Sunset Ruminations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luke and his wife ponder the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“What are you thinking about?”

  
Luke’s voice, light, soft, even as they sat together, long after the sun had begun to set. There was something about the way the light played on his pale skin that never failed to be captivating to Alora Danes-Skywalker.

  
Captivating. Yeah, that summed up Luke very well.

Even the moment they had met while he was rebuilding the Jedi Order, and he had sensed something in her, something Force sensitive, there was something about him that had captivated her. She just didn’t think she’d end up married to this man. Considering the matter of how the old Jedi Order had viewed attachments, it would have sounded as likely as “one day, you’ll end up queen of the galaxy”.

  
And here she was. Married, of course; queen of the galaxy didn't exist yet.

  
Three years since they’d finally married. Three years since she’d finally plucked up the courage to ask him. Three years.  
Three years somehow seemed longer in the light of the sunset.

  
Now, sitting with Luke watching the sun set on Yavin -- and the setting sun seemed incredibly beautiful -- Alora couldn’t help but worry. What kind of mother would she be, in the end? Even learning that she was pregnant had been joyous, wonderful, and yet she also had been afraid.

  
“I’m worried about our baby,” she said. “What kind of mother I’ll be.”

  
“You’ll be wonderful.”

  
“I just don’t want to end up like...” Like my mother, the unfinished sentiment was. Long after her death, Alora could still remember Katrina Danes too well -- at least for someone who simply had not been there. Someone who had gone out to buy something at the store and had never returned.

  
Luke reached over and squeezed her hand. “You won’t be,” he said. “You won’t be.”

  
Alora smiled at him. “I hope.” She sighed. “We both didn’t have good parents, did we?”

  
“No. But we can definitely be better than them.”

  
They sat together, overlooking the sunset, two people with their unborn baby, full of potential and life, hoping the best for their future.  
.

 


	10. Chapter Nine: Birthing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Snoke schemes, Ben has a miniature crisis, and Jaina/Rey is born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It was under the cover of night, when everyone else was asleep, that Snoke could fully check in and make his reports.

He knew he likely did not cut a very imposing figure in hologram, sitting on a chair merely in the Jedi Temple on Yavin. Indeed, this mission had had him do various things to compromise his dignity over the years. But for the mission, he knew, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Besides, the hologram would cover for that aspect nicely. Snoke didn’t necessarily have to make himself look bigger, not truly, but it was a nice touch. Besides, it added to the matter of image. The First Order needed a leader, a teacher, and also an image to follow. The image of the Supreme Leader (though hardly made public yet. He was in the shadows, as he was supposed to be) on his throne, dispensing guidance to his followers.  
 

The figure of Lisaris Regan flickered into view. A man cloaked in black, the color of the Order of Ren, but with a different mask altogether. It almost would have called to mind the mask of Mandalore the Ultimate, but Lisaris was not Mandalorian. He had been a street orphan when Snoke had first found him, struggling for survival. And as with all his followers thus far, Snoke had brought him here, given him a home, a family, a purpose. He was still in training, but thus far, he was coming along swimmingly.  
 

Lisaris knelt. And Snoke spoke.

“Well, Lisaris, how goes the mission?”  
 

“It goes well, Supreme Leader,” said Lisaris. His voice was a crackling hiss behind the mask, almost sinister in nature. Like fire and flames. “We’ve retrieved the holocrons from the ruins of Dantooine. We encountered resistance, but the holocrons are now safe with the Order of Ren.”

“Well done. These will be very useful.” _Especially for your training, Ben Solo._ After all, Ben was a perfect blend of the Dark Side and the Light. It would be a waste to not cultivate both traits in him. It would be a waste to not live up to Snoke’s original plan. Others would have called him a monster. In the end, he was merely doing what the Chosen One could not.

Anakin Skywalker was the Chosen One, contrary to what idiotic reports from others suggested. After all, he had brought balance, simply not on the Jedi’s own terms. Of course they would blame just about everyone but themselves in terms of who brought the downfall of the Jedi Order. He had brought peace, stability, justice as Lord Vader -- before his manipulative son had ultimately brought down both he and the Emperor.

The question was merely the matter of the Chosen One’s scion.  
 

And that was a matter of Ben Solo. The perfect balance between the Light and Dark, the perfect way to finish bringing balance as Vader started.

Lisaris was tall and ramrod-straight in the antechamber. “How goes the infiltration of the Academy, Supreme Leader?” He kept his voice quiet. All very well and good. They couldn't risk waking the others, after all.  
 

“Quite well. I have found the Scion we may be looking for,” said Snoke. “The one who can finish what Lord Vader began long ago.”

***

Meanwhile, the future Scion of the Chosen One was doing far from well. Even as he sat in a tree, looking down at the others, arms crossed over his knees, he wondered if he would have to say goodbye again.

It hadn’t been a thought that struck him at first. There were times that Ben would put his hand on Aunt Alora’s belly and feel the heartbeat inside, as well as the kick. The baby was a kicker. Aunt Alora actually knew it was going to be a girl and Ben couldn’t help but wonder, would she look like Uncle Luke, blond hair, blue eyes? Or Aunt Alora, brown hair and green eyes? Or anything else? Would she like him, would they be able to hang out together? She’d be too little to go on adventures through Yavin IV and Ben would have to worry after her all the time. Would he be a good older cousin? He wasn’t very good at being a role model; he was only ten. He needed more people to look up to, actually. He wasn’t the sort that people actually looked up to.

It was thinking about it later, that he started to worry.

Aunt Alora wouldn’t abandon him, would she? Like Mom and Dad --  
 

No. Aunt Alora wouldn’t abandon him. And Mom and Dad didn’t either. They wanted him to train with Uncle Luke...because he was bad? Basically bad?  
 

Was that why?  
 

Even the presence of this new baby was enough to make Ben both excited and nervous. On the one hand, would Aunt Alora send him away?  
 

Up in the tree, looking down at the others playing, Ben wondered if he would have to go away again. That was what usually happened, wasn’t it? On the other --

“Ben!” Annie’s voice. “Where were you? I was looking all over for you.”  
 

Annie and Thomas both were studies in contrast, Thomas dark-haired and olive-skinned where Annie was blond and tawny-skinned and freckled. And they still contrasted in comparison to Ben -- pale skinned, freckled, dark-haired, a sort of contrast you didn’t see often.

“I’m okay!” Ben called down to them.  
 

“What are you doing up there anyway?” Annie said. “You’re going to fall.”  
 

“I’ll be fine.”  
 

Even heading down from the tree, it wasn’t that high up, honestly. The last time he’d broken a bone, he’d been four years old, and he’d broken his ankle. It had hurt a lot; that day stood out because of the pain. Getting down, he said, “Aunt Alora’s going to ditch me.”  
 

“No, she’s not.”  
 

“She is.” Once she had someone better, and she would, guaranteed, she would ditch him. He wasn’t anything special, after all, he was frequently not Good Enough...  
 

“She won’t. I mean, she likes you. A lot.” Heading up the path back to the Enclave, Ben looked around at the students, students who were currently practicing sparring even as Annie spoke. “We like you.”  
 

Ben turned to her, smiled. “Thanks.”  
 

“No problem. Look, just talk to her and -- ’’  
 

“Hope she doesn’t kill us?” Thomas said.  
 

“Yeah.” Annie sighed. “Let’s hope.”  
 

They reached the Enclave, and Aunt Alora’s room. Ben knocked on the door.  
 

“Aunt Alora?” he said. “Are you there?”  
 

The door opened and Aunt Alora came out. She looked pretty, Ben thought; there was something about her that seemed calm, at peace, almost glowing with the Light. Her hair was loose, and so she looked younger than she was.  
 

“Ben,” she said. “You okay?”  
 

“I...” The words burst out of him before he could stop them. “I won’t be sent away, will I?”  
 

“No, Ben,” Aunt Alora said. “Of course not.” She beamed at him. “You’ll always have a place with us. I promise.”  
 

***  
 

The day her daughter was born was a joyous one, but it was also an occasion of what felt like endless amounts of pain beforehand. Even pushing felt as if she were trying to expel a giant weight from her body, straining just to get it out. Outside in the hospital waiting room, she could hear Ben’s voice  
 

  
 _she’s dying; we’ve got to help her_  
 

and she sent reassurance through the Force. She wasn’t dying, after all. Having difficulty giving birth and pushing (even the midwife droid telling her to push was enough to make her want to shout, “What do you think I’m doing?”), but she was all right.  
 

Yeah. Alora Danes-Skywalker was doing all right.  
 

And the moment that she finally stopped gripping Luke’s hand for dear life, the moment she heard a wail fill the air, she knew it was worth it. Even with the mess afterwards they had to clean up. Even with the matter of cleaning up and swaddling the baby -- it was their baby, and she was beautiful. Even putting her in Alora’s arms, she knew that this baby was a miniature marvel, and beautiful.  
 

Luke seemed just as blown away, tracing their infant daughter’s face as if it were something remarkable, something precious. They did hold something precious, right here in their arms.  
 

“Jaina. How about Jaina?”  
 

“Jaina Skywalker?” Luke grinned. “It’s perfect. Welcome to the galaxy, Jaina Skywalker. We’ve been looking forward to seeing you.”  
 

***  
 

The moment that Ben and Han were allowed into the hospital room, Ben practically sprinted to his aunt’s bed, where she waved up at him.  
 

“Are you okay, Aunt Alora?”  
 

His aunt grinned. “Never better. Say hi to your new cousin, Ben. Her name’s Jaina.”  
 

Ben, gingerly, took the baby from his aunt’s arms. Most babies were gross and wrinkly and sticky and cried a lot, Ben found, but Jaina was relatively quiet, looking up curiously at her cousin. She had big eyes -- blue eyes. They looked like they could hold the secrets of the universe in there.  
 

“Um...hello,” he said. So this was the interloper he was so afraid of? She seemed so harmless. So little. Were babies really that little?  
 

Jaina reached up, touching his face gently, curiously.  
 

“I’m your cousin, Ben,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.” Even looking down at how small she was, he couldn’t help but wonder. Everyone seemed to be taller than Ben Solo, but this was the first time that there was a being smaller than he was.  
 

It was a strange feeling.  
 

And then she started yanking on his hair, crowing in glee.  
 

“Ow!” Ben jerked away, rubbing his hair gingerly. “Uncle Luke, she’s pulling my hair!”  
 

Luke, meanwhile, sighed good-naturedly. “Jaina, stop that. That’s really painful. You’re hurting him.”  
 

Jaina reached up again, but this time, it was to touch Ben’s nose. Ben had always hated that part of him, an almost hooked large nose, but Jaina actually seemed curious. Gentle.  
 

“Think they’ll get on well?” Uncle Luke, this time.  
 

A chuckle from Aunt Alora. “They’ll be fine. I think they’re getting off on the right foot.”

 


	11. Chapter 10: Layers and Spirals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which witnessing Jaina's vulnerability leads Leia to a different look at what she learned about her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Just a bit of a warning, there is some -- Han and Leia filtered -- less than flattering observations about Anakin/Vader. Very much their perspective, but...thought I'd warn you.

Even getting the birth announcements for Jaina Skywalker made Leia wish that she was around for Luke’s family more. It wasn’t even that she hadn’t attended Luke’s wedding or anything like that. That was back before Ben was born. That was back before things got really bad, she knew that much.

That was before things got more complicated.

  
It was one of those rare things where she could actually go and visit Luke and the others -- and even seeing how small Jaina was was enough to send her into shock.

Ben was small -- though he was starting to get taller -- but Jaina herself was practically tiny. Ben had been tiny as a baby too, but there was something about Jaina’s tiny nature that made Leia suddenly freeze. She was currently laughing with Ben, who was playing peek-a-boo with Jaina.

  
“Where’s Jaya? Where’s Jaya?” Ben’s hands were still covering his eyes. “Did she disappear? Did she turn invisible? Where’s Jaya?”

 

Jaina giggled. It was clear that she loved playing this game.

 

“There she is!” Ben pulled his hands away from his eyes. Jaina crowed in glee.

 

And the more Leia watched Ben play with baby Jaina, Jaina laughing vibrantly, shrilly, almost a cackle of glee, Leia already felt as if she were looking into a mirror back...thirty-eight years? Had it been that long? And how had she and Han both come so far?

 

Whatever it was, she saw Jaina, saw her big eyes and chubby hands and wild hair (already a shock of brown hair like Alora’s), and her heart ached. To think of her wonderful niece and her sweet, beautiful son, to think of Vader’s hateful hand trying to choke the life out of them in utero to satisfy a paranoid rage (and Ben Kenobi had been halfway responsible, in a way betrayed her mother too...) was unbearable. _The flutter of a kicking baby, the heartbeat in the womb...that was how little I was, how little Luke was, when my father -- my monster tried to kill us with our mother._

 

_I was only a child. We were both children._

 

“We were both children.” Leia said, softly, and she could feel that reality settle in too heavily, too bitterly.

 

She felt Han’s hand on her shoulder. “You okay, Leia?”

  
She turned to look at him and nodded. “Fine.”

  
“You look tense.”

“Do I? Yeah, I guess I do.” Not so far away from them, Jaina and Ben were still playing peek-a-boo.

 

Han shoved his hands in his pockets, turned to her. “More specifically, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, Leia.”

 

“Yeah. I guess I did.” Silence. “Who’d want to harm a child?”

 

“A monster is what.” Han’s voice hardened. “What your father did to you wasn’t right. He’s not really your father anyway. Just because that Huttslime -- ’’

 

“Yeah, I know.” Leia ran a hand through the part of her hair that wasn't braided. “He’s not and never will be my father.”

 

She wanted to talk about more, talk about how she wondered occasionally if Ben was going down the same path

 

_the living shadow in his room, how drawn he had been to it, the explosions of anger or anxiety that occasionally came up and the matter of his potential in the Force, amazing potential for both Light and Dark_

 

but there were some things that Han wasn’t ready for. There were some things that it would break his heart to hear.

And Leia didn’t want that. And would he understand? Would he be afraid of Ben when Leia didn't want him to be? Would he assume that she was just trying to demonize Ben never mind she wasn’t?

 

Leia didn’t know. But she knew she couldn’t tell Han the rest.

She knew there were many things that were hard to say, and this was one of them.

She just knew that whatever happened, she would do what she could to protect her wonderful son and her wonderful niece. No matter what.

 

She and Han stood on the hill, arms about the other, watching the children play, and Leia quietly renewed her promise to keep Ben safe.


	12. Chapter 11: Boogeyman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Snoke meets baby Jaina for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Part of Snoke's backstory was pretty influenced by Jeremy Jahns' review of TFA. He actually speculated that Snoke was old enough to basically have hung out with Yoda, and that got the gears in my mind going.

The first time that Snoke had met baby Jaina Skywalker, it hadn’t gotten off on the right foot. And that was putting it mildly.  
The other masters had warmed to her just about immediately and she to them (aside from the crying that usually meant she needed a rest) but Snoke...

  
Snoke hadn’t considered his attempts to blend into the Jedi Order to be nearly undone by a baby, but there it was, there it all was. It started when Master Skywalker began introducing her to Snoke, but it went downhill the moment she saw his face.

  
Snoke was aware that he was hideous to behold. He had once been handsome. Some parts were hideous in his eyes. But he had had other features that had been pleasing to the eye -- his eyes, to begin with. Aldric of Milara had had some aspects of beauty to him, even though there were others he kept out of sight.  
Now, with his numerous scars, including one where Yoda’s lightsaber had nearly cloven through his jaw

  
_and how he hated Yoda for that. Long ago, he cared for Yoda, as deeply as kin, but that had been before Yoda had betrayed him_

  
to a young child, he likely looked the boogeyman that younglings were afraid of.

  
It was how others likely saw him. The monster who had to be taken down no matter what the cost. It had been how Yoda had seen him.

  
Jaina wailed. It was the sort of sound that Snoke had come to associate with the worse nights in the orphanage, borderline inconsolable Milaran infants (humans apparently called them “colicky”), and on other nights, the sounds of shouting outside. The sound of blasterfire.

  
“What’s wrong, Jaya?” Master Skywalker’s voice was soft. “Are you okay?”

  
Jaina whimpered, tried to hide her face even as Master Skywalker rocked her. He sighed.

  
“I’m sorry, Master Yana. She'll be better in a moment or so, I promise.” Master Skywalker walked off, still gently rocking Jaina, murmuring softly to her.

  
Snoke sighed to himself. His initial introduction had much to be desired, it seemed. It had been easier with Ben. Ben had not seen his face up close, but Jaina had. Far from her fault that she had cried like that; it was an unfamiliar face she didn’t understand.

  
Moments later, Master Skywalker came back, Jaina still clinging to his shoulder, the latter still seeming nervous, clinging to her father’s robe.

  
“He’s fine, really. Jaya -- this is Master Yana. Don’t worry, Jaya...” Master Skywalker was crooning to the infant in a way that, to Snoke, made him suppose he would never understand human behavior. Did all parents get like this? Was it as if their capacity for eloquent speech went down the moment they came in contact with a small child? Of course, Snoke only had hazy memories of his own parents. Too hazy. He had been quite young when they had died, after all.

  
“He won’t hurt you,” Master Skywalker said. “He won't hurt you.”

  
No, he wouldn't. Even if he wanted to, it would barely serve a purpose.  
He reached into her mind, no more than a tentative, curious tendril. Hello, small one.  
After a while, she responded, with curiosity, if nervous curiosity.  
She was small. Even looking at her, Snoke was amazed at how small she was -- bright blue eyes looking up at him, curious, but not quite as afraid.

  
He was getting better at this then.  
“I’m sorry about this, by the way,” Skywalker said.

  
“Oh, there is no need.” Snoke was all too used to it. Many people who had seen the multiple scars he had were horrified -- they didn't see the history behind it (the scar where Yoda had nearly severed his jaw, the scar vertical on his head where he’d fallen into the river and nearly drowned, the scars where his knuckles had been branded with a plasma torch), but they found the scars horrifying nonetheless. Snoke would not have minded normally; after all, being the leader of the First Order, aesthetics were almost insignificant. But now, being around an infant just taking in the world for the first time...  
It seemed his cover, flimsy as it was, was nearly blown. From the infant’s perspective, he no doubt looked like the boogeyman. Hardly her fault, but still irritating nonetheless.

  
Jaina reached up and touched his face. Small at first before tracing along the contours, so carefully all the while.  
The moment was too sweet for Snoke’s comfort. At least the infant had now accepted him, as it were.

  
Mission accomplished, as others would say.

  
She and Ben both...they would make invaluable apprentices in the future. Both of them had so much power in them, a perfect blend of light and dark. The balance that Snoke needed in his efforts. They would bring the balance where the Jedi could not.

  
Snoke looked down at the infant, and smiled. Outsiders wouldn't notice anything particularly strange about it; it would have seemed even benevolent in nature. But those who looked closer would sense something off about it, something sinister.

  
_You, little Skywalker...you’ll go far. You and Ben... I know you both will._


	13. Chapter Twelve: For Clan Ordo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get one of the Knights of Ren's origin stories as Snoke continues to recruit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Yes, Atin the Mandalorian is a descendant of Canderous Ordo. I was stuck for last names before choosing this.

Today’s job was just another day in tedium (also known as Nar Shaddaa) for Atin Ordo.

  
Even heading back from a meeting with his Hutt crimelord, where he’d gotten the necessary credits, Atin couldn’t help but wonder -- was that, really, all there was?

They used to have a legacy, and a glorious one at that. Atin had grown up hearing the old stories of battles such as Althir, and Malachor, when the Sith had promised them glory that would echo throughout history. They’d been warriors -- then somewhere along the line, that glory had been reduced to mere bounty hunter-dom. The death of Jango Fett and the domestication of Mandalore by the hut’uun so-called pacifist Satine Kryze had added more salt into the wound. That was what Atin had been told, at least, growing up amongst the Mandalorians who had refused to buckle under Satine’s new doctrine.

Now here he was, working errands for a Hutt -- a job that was about as glorious as a job as a full-time cannok exterminator. Even heading back to the beat-up apartment that served as home, Atin could only wonder how, exactly, he’d got here.

  
And now on top of that, he could have sworn he was being watched.

  
Atin couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was as if someone was following him. He could feel their eyes boring into his back.  
A Mandalorian wasn’t going to be intimidated by something like that, so Atin headed out towards where he swore that he was being watched --  
\-- only to see a towering figure, ramrod-straight, wearing a golden mask that reminded Atin almost of Mandalore the Ultimate.

  
“Business is closed,” Atin said. “For the night. If you’re here for some sort of hit, you’re gonna have to come back tomorrow -- ’’

  
“I’m not here for that.” There was something weird about his voice, Atin thought, the figure in the gold mask -- there was something about it that reminded Atin of crackling fires.

  
“So...what? You watching the chaos?”

  
“I have an offer for you. Not a hit. You’re tired of those errands you run on Nar Shaddaa, aren’t you? Being someone’s errand boy. Being someone’s personal cannok exterminator. Can’t say I blame you. Terribly boring life, isn’t it?”

  
Atin nodded. This stranger...whoever this stranger was, he seemed to read his thoughts as well as an open holobook. It wasn’t what one would call a comfortable feeling. Atin was used to feeling unreadable, in control. People feared you more easily that way, when they couldn’t see what was behind the mask.

  
“Not to mention...is he a good boss, this Hutt?”

  
Atin snorted. “By Mandalore, no.” And he could already feel his anger rising thinking about it. To think that he chained himself to that overgrown slug for years, and for what? Just to be verbally abused and treated like one of that Hutt’s servants instead of a bounty hunter?

  
Some people had no respect for Mandalorians these days. Of course, considering the traitor Satine Kryze...Death Watch had been heroes trying to take back what was theirs, and nothing anyone said could sway Atin from that position.  
“He...treats you quite badly.”

  
“No, he treats me excellently,” Atin said sarcastically, “Like a prince.”

  
The man in the gold mask tilted his head. “Not so much. It’s quite arrogant of him.”

  
Atin snorted. “Try telling him that. Look, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, what’s your offer? What’s better than this?”

  
“Besides anything?” said the gold masked figure wryly. “What if you came with us?” His voice became more earnest, more persuasive. “What if I gave you the chance to take back what Satine Kryze denied you? Would you take it?”  
“Well, yes. What are you thinking?”

And Atin couldn't deny that his heart sped up at least a little bit.  
The idea of taking back what was rightfully his, what was rightfully the Mandalorians’, was too wonderful to imagine. Too wonderful to picture.

  
“I am Lisaris. I work for Supreme Leader Snoke of the First Order.”

  
“Wait. The First Order?” As far as Atin heard, the group were fanatics. Not exactly the types that a Mandalorian would want to get tangled up in.  
“Are you afraid?”

  
“No. Just a little suspicious is all.”

  
“I see. Just know that we are not Exar Kun or the True Sith of old. We are better, much better. And we can help you take back the legacy the hut’uun snatched from you.”  
And that thought...

  
In his mind, Atin could already picture fighting battles that echoed throughout history. He could picture something along the lines of Althir, of Malachor, of Dxun and other places, restoring the Mandalorians to warriors, not weaklings. Or for that matter, professional cannok exterminators.  
For the first time in his life, he could actually imagine himself having a purpose.

  
“Sounds like something. What do I have to do?”

  
“The Supreme Leader,” said Lisaris, and all the while, his voice was quieter now, as if there was some secret between them, “Has hidden us from the galaxy. He is still planning what he needs to do, including recruiting for the Knights of Ren.”

  
“You a Knight?”

  
“One of them,” said Lisaris. “Now, to come with us, you have to keep this secret.”  
“Deal.”

  
“Good. Now, listen carefully...”

  
Atin listened, and all the while, thoughts of his future, his glorious future, played through his mind.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Black Supernova

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben gets his first look at slavery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Trigger warning for discussion of slavery and child abuse.

Ben Solo was thirteen years old when he got his first look at slavery.

  
It was on a mission to Nar Shaddaa that he had known that, supposedly having started out with investigating a ship known as the Black Supernova and their trading practices.

   
It had started out, Ben thought, as some sort of trading dispute. What they found on the inside was much worse.

   
There was something about even entering the ship that reminded Ben too much of being in a horror holo that he would occasionally watch with Annie, Thomas and others in the Yavin Enclave. The ship seemed to be empty, even desolate at first, and Ben couldn’t see how investigating the ship would lead to anywhere but a dead end.

   
“I think we should turn around.” Michael, this time. Michael was six years older than Ben but despite all of it, they got on pretty well. Mike wasn’t usually the sort who would back down from a challenge, but even he seemed unnerved.

   
“We’re on a mission. We can’t turn back now.” Annie said.

   
Ben couldn’t really disagree with either of them, actually. In fact, everything about this ship just felt wrong. Probably like one of those ships that you saw in the horror holovids that seemed to be abandoned before something inevitably lunged out of the shadows.

   
“We better stick together,” he said.

   
It was rounding a corner that he heard a sniffle. A faint one. They weren’t alone. He headed towards the source of the noise, only to see a girl huddled in a corner in ragged clothes, shaking like a leaf.

   
A young girl, emaciated, ragged, with tangled dark hair, probably nine years old, looked up at him, and the first bruise Ben saw on her cheek made him wish, more than anything, he could murder whoever did this.

   
“Don’t be afraid.” It was one of those moments where Ben’s naturally soft voice (a voice Master Naris had ridiculed him for) actually came in handy. He squatted beside the girl. “What’s your name?”

   
“Miranda.”

   
“Nice to meet you, Miranda. I’m Ben. I’m getting you out of here.”

   
“You’re here to help us?”

   
“Yeah.” Annie, this time. “We’re the Jedi rescue squad. We’re here to get you out of here.”

   
“They’ll kill you if they find you.” The girl took several deep, shuddering breaths. “Mama and Daddy -- the bad men took them away. They’re down in the cells. They take them down here to...to...”

   
She sniffled again. Ben took her hand; he didn’t know if it would be a good idea giving her a hug, but he had to do something to show his support. To let her know she had people who cared about her. To let her know she was going to be all right.

   
“It’s okay,” he said.

   
Footsteps. And Ben knew that it was the slavers. Blaster bolts went flying through the air, but Ben and the others, just in time, managed to get them before they hit Miranda.

   
“Go!” Ben said. “Go hide. We’ll hold them off.”

   
The girl did.

   
The leader stepped forward. “After her, men! After her!”

   
 _Oh, don’t you even dare --_

   
Ben took out his lightsaber and began slashing. It was almost as if the fury had become bigger than his body, bigger than his bones, and already, he was furious at the slavers, furious for what they’d done. And he almost wanted to, in the fight, shove what they had done into their minds. You monsters, he wanted to say. How could you? You beat a child. A child! And now you’re trying to hurt her even more as well --

   
The slavers fell to the ground and Ben stood over their bodies, gasping for breath, and already, wondering if he’d done the right thing -- then he remembered the child shaking like a leaf in the corner and he knew he had done the right thing.

   
Ben turned towards the other slaves, who were watching in astonishment. “It’s all right,” he said. “Get on the ships.”

   
They did, though not before Miranda ran to a tall dark-haired woman, her mother most likely, and a dark-haired man who was likely her father. Even watching the both of them reunite, Ben knew, in his heart, he had at least done that right.

   
Even if he had lost control.

   
They got back on their ship and leapt to hyperspace then, leaving the Black Supernova far behind.


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Uncommon Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben and Yana have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Trigger warning for discussion of past child abuse.

Landing back on Yavin IV didn’t do much to assuage Ben’s thoughts even returning from the Black Supernova. Even with interviewing Miranda and realizing she had latent Force potential -- which was astounding -- it was interesting, and yet it didn’t take Ben’s mind off the fact that he had killed.

  
He had made mistakes before. Getting in physical fights with Jimmy Nichos. Getting angry. Accidentally reading people’s minds. But this...

  
What if this was just the first step down the Dark Side? Yoda had once said that once you start down the dark path, it would forever dominate your destiny (albeit with the words reversed) and looking out the window of the Enclave, Annie and Thomas doing homework not too far away from him, looking out at Miranda playing with the younglings...Ben wondered if that would happen to him next.

  
After all, Sith weren’t just scary monsters; they’d been sentient beings too, right? Beings with hopes and dreams who probably never dreamed they’d fall, but ended up doing it anyways. And it all just took one step.

  
One step and you fell into the darkness.

  
One step and you lost yourself.

  
Was that going to happen to Ben? After all, according to Uncle Luke, wishing and praying weren’t enough. Was that going to happen to him?

  
“Ben.” Yana’s voice. “Is everything all right?”

  
And there was something about Yana’s voice that was enough to, strangely, calm Ben down, make him turn towards that wise, rarely seen face.

  
“I guess so.”

  
“You are still unsettled by your trip to the Black Supernova, aren’t you?”

  
It was difficult to describe the effects that Poe and Yana both had on him. It was as if they could see into his very soul and understand what he was trying to say. As if they simply knew what he was thinking, feeling, going through. They were both on the same wavelength, in the same sync. They swam in the same sea. And Yana was almost like the other half of his thoughts, as if they could carry on a conversation and even not speaking, they could convey full well what they were going to say.

  
“I just...” Ben bit his lip. “They knew. They must have known, and they didn’t do anything to help them. People were suffering and dying and they didn’t do anything.” He sighed. It was at least half the truth, if not the full truth of what he feared. “It’s not fair.”

  
“Unfairness, you’ll find, is a frequent truth in this galaxy. Others like to pretend that it is a just galaxy where the wicked get their reward and the good get their vindication, but it is not so. I myself grew up in such a place that proved as much.”

  
“I’m so sorry.”

  
“It was called Milara,” said Yana. “You are familiar with it, yes?”

  
“Yeah. It underwent...some sort of civil war, didn’t it?”

  
“That’s one way to put it. I lost my family to that war when I was quite young.”

  
“I’m so sorry.”

  
“The fault is not yours, Ben.”

  
“I’m still sorry you lost them,” Ben said. He doubted he could even imagine the pain of such a loss.

  
“I fled. I ran so far...I looked for shelters to hide from the bombs and when the dust cleared, my family was killed.” Yana’s voice didn’t even shake as he spoke; the way he said all of this, he might as well have been giving a report for the holonews. “I was sent to an orphanage. The workers...were not kind to me, or any of the orphans under their care. We were frequently punished, and there were always rumors about...things that arose in the orphanage.”

  
But there was more than that. Ben could hear the cry of a young boy as something -- a fist? -- impacted against flesh, and he knew that cry was Yana’s own. Small Yana, large-eyed, tiny, vulnerable and scared, being hurt by those animals --

  
And in spite of himself, Ben’s breath hitched. “They beat you?” He could hardly wrap his mind around the very idea. His parents had been cruel to him on occasion -- Ben couldn’t say whether or not it was on purpose, he only knew it hurt -- but he had never been abused. He could only picture a smaller version of Yana -- what would that look like? -- cowering from some...monster’s fists, or whips. He shivered. Who would do that to a defenseless youngling?

  
_The same ones who beat and starved Miranda. Evil people._

  
“They did.” Yana’s voice did not quiver. Indeed, he seemed too calm.

  
But Ben could feel the terror, the pain of the youngling streaming into his thoughts. And a voice, small, boyish. _Don’t_. Not that the shadows listened.

  
He backed away.

  
“Ben?”

  
“I’m fine. It’s just...how could they? You were a youngling.”

  
Silence. Then, “I doubt they cared about such things. They left their share of scars on me to this day. The scars on my knuckles...”

  
He held his hand out to Ben.

  
Yana’s hands were skeletal things, pale, and for the first time, Ben saw the burns and scars that seemed to cover them. They looked as if --

  
_Force. Dear Force..._

  
And yet Ben could get sensations through the Force. A series of harsh words in a language that Ben could only assume was Milaran. A scream of pain.

  
“Your eyes,” Yana said, and his voice seemed to waver if slightly, “Am I...hideous to you?”

  
“No,” Ben finally said. “You’re not hideous. Not even a little. Trust me.” He wet his lips. “I think you’re one of the bravest creatures that I’ve ever met, actually.”

  
A flicker of surprise seemed to come across Yana’s face. Then, “You do...mean every word you say, don't you, Ben?”

  
“Yes.”

  
Yana looked thoughtful. “I can’t say that I heard that. They inflicted these beatings on me until a Jedi found me after I ran away. I was quite young at the time. The Order...unfortunately, they weren't terribly interested in improving things on Milara.” A hint of contempt entered Yana’s voice. “If it wasn’t dealing with the trivialities of the privileged and powerful, they couldn't be bothered. The sufferings of those in the Milaran colony...they were insignificant to the Council. Even speaking about it to them, they were slow to act at best. I suppose such a case isn’t unique, however. Tatooine, for example.”

  
“But that’s not fair!” Ben said. “They could have sent out a Jedi. Done something.”

  
“They would have justified it with patience and meditation. Never mind that such things have never helped the galaxy. Think of it, Ben -- of injustice was going on, in front of you, would you leap into action, or would you wait?”

  
Silence. Then, “I’d leap into action.”

  
“Spoken like a true warrior. But that’s not what the Jedi did. They did what they have always done: they waited.”

  
Ben’s breath hitched. He looked over the leftover, not-entirely-faded scars on Yana’s knuckles, the scars of a plasma torch that those beasts had used on a child, and wondered how anyone could even refuse to do anything to help every child who had suffered so.

  
“Master Yana...” he said softly, and he wished that he could do something, anything, to ease the pain that Yana the youngling had been in. That Yana was still in now. The shame was blooming in Yana still, as if it was somehow his fault that the managers of the orphanage had burnt his knuckles and whipped him. As if he were an evil child. But he wasn’t. He never was.

  
He reached out to Yana, put a hand near his. Yana merely nodded, and Ben took it, gently. His hand barely matched up to Yana's, but he could gently, soothingly go over each knuckle with his fingers, looking at each burn, each brand.

  
“I’m sorry,” Ben said softly. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn't deserve this.”

  
“You are very kind, Ben. It’s...admittedly taken some time for me to understand this. The Order was more than accommodating, but I doubt they knew how to treat a child who had come from a background of abuse.”

  
“If I were running the Order, I would have helped you.” Ben said. “I really would have. I would have done anything.”

  
“I know.” Yana smiled. “You are a good, kind soul, Ben Solo. There are very little in the galaxy nowadays.”

  
“I’m sure there are more,” Ben said. “You just have to know where to look.”

  
“They are rare. You, Ben...I will admit you are unlike anyone I’ve ever known.”

  
“I don’t know if it’s always a good thing. I...I got so angry on the Black Supernova ...”

  
“The Jedi can pretend otherwise, Ben, but you’ll find that anger is the fire of action. You did nothing wrong on that ship. Anger is a natural response to injustice. The Jedi would prefer we be mindless, emotionless drones instead of real, breathing people.”

  
“That’s kind of harsh,” Ben said. “I mean -- ’’

  
“Didn’t you feel alive on that ship, Ben? Righteous, justified?”

  
“I did.” And I shouldn’t have.

  
Yana placed a hand on his shoulder. “My dear Ben, anger is the inspiration that fuels the art of justice. You rid the galaxy of undeserving scum. Guilt is unnecessary.”

  
“But I’m not a good Jedi.”

  
“Is anyone?” said Yana.

  
They sat together, watching Miranda play with the other younglings, and Ben could take comfort in the fact that she was safe, that the other slaves were safe. There were others, but he would find them soon and free the slaves. No killing, just freeing them. Everything would be all right.

  
_I’ll find them and free them, and no one should ever have to suffer again._


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Anyone Anywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben and co. get even more determined to help the slaves, and Ben's later destructive tendencies make an early cameo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

 

 Ben’s lightsaber clove through the training dummies as if they were nothing at all.

  
Even as they fell to the ground, bits and pieces of them lying around on the floor, there was something about it where it somehow wasn’t enough. There was something about it where it somehow wasn’t sufficient. How dare his uncle -- when there were people suffering and dying, telling him to use patience and meditation, to wait?

  
Even his uncle telling him that they were doing the best they could to find the other ships -- it made no sense. They had the Force. Couldn’t they stretch out with their emotions, find the slavers --

  
When the training dummies were finally in pieces, Ben stood over the pieces, breathing heavily. At least the anger was out of him. He hadn’t expected to have so much of it, of course, and he wondered if this was just further proof of something, anything, being wrong with him. Other Jedi didn’t have this amount of anger.

  
“Ben?” Yana’s voice. “Is everything all right?”

  
“Yeah.” Ben took a deep breath. “You better not come in here. It’s...a bit of a mess.”

  
“I know.” Yana stepped in, carefully avoiding a piece of one of the downed mannequins, not even batting an eyelash (if he had eyelashes, Ben couldn’t tell) at the mess on the floor. Thomas and Annie followed, along with Mike. The group of them looked just as agitated.

  
“It just...made me angry,” Ben said. “What my uncle said.”

  
“I know,” Annie said. “It’s outrageous. I can’t believe Master Skywalker’s just...” She shook her head. Even using the Force to levitate each piece into the bins, Ben could see that her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she’d been crying.

  
“Yeah,” Ben said. “I can’t either.”

  
Annie nodded. Then, “Why do the dummies help, Ben? I’m just curious.”

  
Ben shrugged. “Because I feel if I don’t do...something, I’ll explode.”

  
That was the best way to describe it. As if his anger was energy that was all but begging to be let out of his body. As if his anger was energy that strained and howled and screamed inside his body and it was ever the monster inside him that could take over at any time. His Beast. While the Beast lived inside him, it seemed to be pacing around in a cage, clawing at Ben, screaming in a voice of its own, or occasionally gnawing at him and whispering at him, beckoning to him to give into it. It was the call of everything Dark inside him, and he hated it.

  
“Well, if it works...” Michael shrugged. “I don’t think anyone’s gone Dark from slashing up the training dummies.”

  
“That would be the day,” Ben said. And in spite of himself, he felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

  
It was once all the dummy pieces were put away and the new dummies were put up that Annie looked over at Ben. “We’re never going to stop trying to help them,” she said. “No matter what it takes. I mean, even if the Masters don’t want to help, we can do what we can to help.”

  
“I think Master Skywalker does want to help -- ’’ said Thomas.

  
“Yeah, I guess,” Annie said. “But still...if other people can’t help those in need, at least we can. I’m thinking of going and seeing what the others think.”

  
“Good idea,” Ben said. “We need all the help we can get.”

  
It was walking back through the hallways that Yana spoke.

  
“You remind me more than a bit of a boy,” said Yana. “Even when I first met you. You weren’t a slave like he was, but you had his idealism. His name was Anakin Skywalker.”

  
“My grandfather was a slave?” Uncle Luke had told his share of stories about Grandfather’s adventures during the Clone Wars and such but he had never said something like this. Even picturing it, Ben could not help but feel a stab of horror and pity for him. Having to live like that, having to live in such conditions...

  
Ben could barely fathom it. He wasn’t tortured like Miranda was, was he? Even the idea that anyone could do something so wretched, so awful to a child...

  
How could anyone think it was all right?

  
Yana nodded. “Up to when he was nine years old. That was when he came to the Jedi Order. In that respect, he was actually quite a sweet, charming young boy. I only met him a few times, but he was very kind, friendly, respectful. He waited for his mother to be freed, as well as the other slaves, but the Council didn’t grant his request.”

  
“But that’s...wrong,” Ben said. He bit his lip. “Someone should have done something. Someone should have helped him. And his mom too, and the others...” He tried picturing his own mother being in something like Miranda’s situation, tried to picture the other slaves and what they’d gone through, and he blinked, having to look away from Yana for a moment. “Why didn’t the Council do anything?”

  
“Their compassion had long been shriveled,” said Yana. “Perhaps they cared nothing for the slaves on Tatooine, for were they not just slaves?” His voice took on a note of bitterness, of sarcasm, as he spoke. “Were they not insignificant?”

  
“But nobody’s insignificant,” Ben said. “How can they think that?”

  
“When one’s locked away in their Temples too long, and they perceive the universe through the windows of their Council chambers, it is akin to attempting to see the universe through a crack in a door.”

  
“I guess. But it’s still not fair.”

  
“The galaxy is far from fair.”

  
“Yeah, I figured that. But still...” Ben sighed. “Is it possible to get the others out? Like, if there are other slavers out there, we could stop them?”

  
“The question is, Ben, where do you want to start?”

  
“Anywhere,” Ben said. “Anywhere in the galaxy. Anywhere at all.”

 


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Poe's Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Poe Dameron comes back into the picture. Poe/Ben undertones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A year passed. Ben turned fourteen, and they were still trying to navigate the matter of stopping slavery. It wasn’t easy, but they could at least get some Jedi behind them. That was a plus. Getting the others was going to be slightly more difficult.  
 

 

Annie, however, was far from stuck for ideas. “Have you considered talking to your mom?” she said. “I mean, she's probably going to be up for this as much as you are.”  
 

 

“Yeah.” Assuming the Senate hadn’t all but tied her hands in that regard. They probably had, at least in some regard. The Senate was like that. About as useful as a screen door on a submersible. And that was enough to make Ben even angrier at the matter of what was happening.  
 

 

Poe was up for it, of course. “I heard about it in your holomail,” he said. “It’s just wrong. And the fact the Senate isn’t doing anything about it is just even more wrong.”  
 

 

Ben’s heart lifted even hearing that. Sometimes, Poe seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. He and Yana both -- it was like they could understand what he was thinking and feeling, what was going on, without so much as needing Ben to say a word. Of course, there were a lot of things about Poe that Ben admired.  
 

 

The truth was, Ben thought, there was something about Poe at seventeen that made Ben envy him. He seemed so very confident, so very much like he’d figured it all out, while Ben was still trying to navigate being fourteen, which...honestly, after the milestone that was thirteen, the best thing you could say about fourteen was the fact that it was the year that Ben was fighting against slavery. And there was the fact he was smart. And kind. And --  
 

 

“I couldn't agree more, Poe.” Ben sighed. “We’ve been finding more circles and everything, but...I think we could use a little more help.”  
 

 

“I can probably give you a search back,” Poe said. “The name of the ship was the _Black Supernova_ , right?”  
 

 

“Yeah.”  
 

 

“Great. I’ll mail you the results when I get them, I promise.”  
 

 

Ben grinned. “Poe, you’re amazing.”  
 

 

“No problem. Honestly, you’re doing the right thing, Ben. All of you are. You’re doing beautifully.”  
 

 

There was something about Poe’s reassurance in that moment that made Ben feel his heart lift. There was nothing wrong with them. There was everything wrong with the fact the Council was doing nothing, but there was nothing wrong with them.  
 

 

***

There was still something about the way that Ben had said “Poe, you’re amazing” that made Poe feel unexpectedly fluttery, although he had tried to push it aside. He couldn’t say why, but he knew that ever since recently at least, he had started to develop...something for Ben. It was just a matter of feeling comfortable in his presence, feeling a sort of happiness whenever Ben would call, things like that.  
 

 

The small things. Always the small things. The small things that made Poe Dameron feel strangely giddy. Here -- anything for him, right? And considering that the Senate and the Order both couldn’t be bothered to do the right thing, they had to do what they could.  
 

 

Poe sat down at the terminal and typed in BLACK SUPERNOVA, and after a bit of refinement (as apparently the archives thought that he was talking about the heavy isotope band that was currently touring), he got it. The Black Supernova. Part of the New Exchange front. Current leader of the Black Supernova front was named Haranka Navarre, who was Echani. How exactly an Echani got into the slave business, Poe couldn’t say he knew. But he had a name.  
 

 

And with a name, they knew where to go from there.  
 

 

***

It was later that Ben got back the holomail from Poe. He had been waiting, of course, to get the name back, patiently all the while. Meditating was difficult, and Uncle Luke had had to chastise him for not doing it “right”, which really made no sense. What good was meditating going to do in the real world? Besides if, somehow, you found a good spot. But most of the galaxy wasn’t slowing down for meditating, why should Ben?  
 

 

By the time Ben got back to his room, he was already irritated, already angry. He shouldn’t have said what he said to Uncle Luke regarding him being borderline not caring, but he had been anxious enough, frustrated enough. It was a miracle Uncle Luke hadn’t thrown him out of the Academy. Yet, that is. He threw himself down on the bed, only for his datapad to start beeping.  
 

 

More specifically, the holomail portion.  
 

 

He opened it. It was Poe. And there were three words in it, but three that could help them.  
 

 

  
_His name’s Haranka._  
 

 

Ben grinned and began typing back.  
 _  
_  


 

  
_Poe, you are amazing, thank you so much! I’m definitely going to give this to Thomas and Annie while I can. I promise._  
 

 

He hit SEND, still grinning.  
 

 

They had a name. And now...now they could probably give it over to the Republic in time just to make sure Haranka was arrested.  
 

 

Hopefully.


	18. Chapter Seventeen: The Polar Regions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben and co. head off to Telos, and encounter Haranka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Trigger warning for scenes of slavery. Also, I hope I'm not making Ben too unlikeable here.

It was days later that they were heading out to Haranka’s hideout. Apparently, the last that they had seen him was just near the polar regions of Telos. Heading down below, Ben couldn’t picture a man like Haranka hiding in such cold regions, but then again, he supposed, if you were a criminal, you hid in places that others wouldn’t expect you to hide.

They descended from the shuttle with Lieutenant Avelin. Avelin was forty-five, with long, shaggy brown hair, and a certainty to her face that Ben supposed just came easily with adults. He wished that there was some way to acquire that certainty, that sureness. Did you have to wait for it to occur, he couldn't help but wonder. Or were there classes you could take, just to make sure that you got it all right?

Ben didn’t know.

“Right,” Avelin said. “You’re going to have to be careful, all of you. This is pretty dangerous business.”

  
“Figured that one,” Ben said.

  
“Stay close to me,” Avelin said. “And if I tell you to run, run. Quickly.”

  
Ben nodded. He didn’t know why she was telling them this; they were Jedi. They could defend themselves. But he nodded. “Right,” he said.

  
They descended lower into the old Academy -- the Academy that Brianna Kae had taken over following the death of her mistress, Atris -- and Ben could already hear the screaming. Annie ignited her lightsaber, a green in contrast to Ben’s blue and Thomas’ orange, and spun around.

  
“Careful,” Avelin said. “You don’t know who’s up ahead of us.” She and Poe, meanwhile, had their blasters at their sides.

  
The screaming grew louder, and it was the sort of screaming that sounded like nothing that any sentient lungs could come up with.  
Avelin continued in. And Ben could see a man for the first time, standing next to a control panel, switching it on and off, dispensing the shocks to the prisoner in the Force cage. Other prisoners were gathered in Force cages, watching in horror.

  
“Haranka.” One of the prisoners, one of the slaves, a woman. “Please. Stop this.”

  
Haranka smiled. He was handsome, Ben thought, but that handsomeness was marred by how sickening the smile looked on his sculpted features. Twisted, sick, evil. “Use my title.”

  
“Master.” The woman sounded broken. “Master, please...”

  
Next to him, Ben could sense Annie tense, shaking with rage. Then Avelin spoke.

  
“Put your hands in the air, Haranka.”

  
Haranka’s smile grew wider. “Lieutenant Avelin. What an unexpected pleasure.”

  
“I said put your hands in the air.”

  
“What makes you think that I would do that?” Haranka reached into his pocket, pulled out an Echani vibroblade.

  
The rest of the fight was an explosion of blasterfire and slashes of lightsabers, color seeming to provide splashes in the dingy room even as Ben and the others fought against Haranka and the slaves fled, releasing the Force cage so the woman prisoner could escape too. Haranka was good, Ben thought, even as he fended off yet another blow. Skilled. Ben had a lightsaber, but in comparison, Haranka was a master compared to Ben, who was still struggling.

  
“You can’t win,” said Haranka. “If you think you can stop me from what I’m doing, if you think the Jedi can stop any of this...you could not be more wrong.”

  
And that was what gave Ben a second wind, of sorts. Just the idea of Haranka getting away with his crimes, just the idea of what the other slaves had to go through, was enough to get him back into the fight. Slashing, all but spinning around, lost in his anger --

  
Ben’s blade went through both Haranka’s hands.

  
The Echani vibroblade fell to the floor, rolled away. Despite his new state, Haranka was perfectly calm.  
“You fought well, young Jedi,” he said. “Very well indeed.”

  
There were cuffs to bind his arms together, at least, by the time the rest of the TSF arrived. Even as Lieutenant Lire took Haranka away, Haranka turned to look at Ben, with the sort of scrutinizing gaze that made Ben wonder, briefly, if Haranka could see into his very soul.

  
“Your movements have energy about them, darkness. Even righteous anger, or craving to be righteous anger.” Haranka smiled; it was a far from pleasant smile, Ben thought. Maybe the smile that would look more flattering on a maalras. “You claim to be a Jedi, and yet anger is in every movement, every step you take. Every slash, every swipe. It must be terribly frustrating, isn’t it?”

  
“Come on,” Lieutenant Lire said, “Move it.”

  
“I see your heart, Jedi. You can fool whoever you wish, but not me. The Echani know battle too well.”

  
Lieutenant Lire cocked his blaster at the back of Haranka’s head. “If you don't move, sir, I’ll have to move you.”

  
“Of course, of course,” said Haranka pleasantly. “I see.”

  
They led Haranka away and Ben stood there, wondering if somehow his reaction had been wrong. A Jedi should not know anger. And yet this mission...this mission was bringing out more anger in him than he thought possible. Then again, wasn’t he just about always one to struggle with his anger? It was the sort that was one of his weakest points. And Haranka had sensed it. Haranka had sensed that he wasn’t strong enough. Haranka had sensed --

  
“Hey.” Thomas put a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  
Ben nodded. “Fine.” He didn’t want to admit, more than anything, how Haranka had scared him. Was it true? Was he a bad Jedi just because of how he lost control?

  
He didn’t want to think about it.

Even after they got on the shuttle, Ben sitting as far from the imprisoned Haranka as possible, his thoughts were roiling, wondering if he would ever, truly, be good enough. 


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Coruscant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Haranka is arrested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

 The trip to Coruscant was long enough, but felt like an eternity when you were in the same shuttle as a slaver. When you felt his eyes, cold and dead, all but boring into the back of your head as you tried to play sabaac with a friend of yours, or anything like that.

  
So it was for Ben Solo in that moment, even as the hyperspace routes to Coruscant seemed to stretch out forever. Lire was already keeping guard over him (and Ben did not envy him his job, actually), and he was safe playing sabaac with Poe (who was currently winning) near the front while Avelin sat up ahead, watching over the hyperspace route, but Ben was still very afraid of Haranka. The way that Haranka had so effortlessly read him and his movements was still unsettling. Echani could do that, of course; Echani saw battle as a form of expression, but still, there was something about how Haranka had read his movements that gave Ben the chills.

   
And yes, he was angry. So very angry. Everything about the situation wasn’t right, or fair. It just wasn’t right how other people had to suffer. And he knew that anger was of the Dark Side (though Dad disagreed. Dad was a wonderful person, Ben thought, but sometimes he didn’t seem to get the Force and why exactly Ben worried so much about it, why exactly he was afraid of getting too angry. Maybe he had too much faith in Ben sometimes), but it didn’t take away from the fact that all of this was wrong.

  
“Ben?” Poe’s voice, gentle. “Galaxy to Ben Solo, you okay?”

   
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Ben sighed and ran a hand across his forehead. “Just worried is all.”

  
“I can see that. Is it about what that guy said? About...y’know?”

  
Ben nodded.

  
“Look, Ben,” said Poe. “Don’t listen to him. I don’t blame you for getting angry. _I_ got angry just looking at it. And if falling to the Dark Side because you got angry is something that happens, we’d all be running around with red lightsabers, wouldn’t we?”

  
“I guess.” Dad had said something similar. Ben wasn’t sure that he believed it, actually. Trying to avoid the Dark Side was too much like walking a tightrope -- one step wrong and you fell.

  
He didn’t know how to tell Poe the rest. About the Beast. About the times when he smashed up training dummies and things like that.

  
“You’re a good person, Ben. Don’t think otherwise.”

  
There was something about what Poe said and how he said it that was enough for Ben’s heart to suddenly lift, and tension that he didn't realize he was carrying melted, momentarily, away. Then, “You’re a good friend, Poe.”

   
He could have sworn he saw a flash of pain come over Poe’s face, but Poe composed himself just then. He reached over, touched Poe’s hand -- there was something about Poe that was so bright, honestly, that Ben felt guilty even unintentionally extinguishing it.

  
There was something about touching Poe’s hand that made Ben’s heart speed up for a moment. Poe’s hand was unexpectedly soft, warm, and Ben wondered why he hadn’t noticed before.

  
Their eyes met, and Ben was struck by how dark they were, so brown they were almost black, expressive.

  
Avelin’s voice cut into their haze, and Ben couldn’t help but feel a momentary prickle of irritation. “We’re coming up on Coruscant.”

  
At least they wouldn’t have to be stuck with Haranka anymore. Thank goodness.

  
There was something about Coruscant that never failed to see Ben when he saw it. The vast, sparkling cities, the vehicles, the great heights -- despite the terror that was Haranka in the back seat of the shuttle, Coruscant always held a sort of awe for Ben.

  
They got out of the shuttle, and it was there that the head of the Coruscant Security Force, Lieutenant Sarik, came up to them. “This is the prisoner?”

  
Avelin nodded. “You can definitely thank Poe Dameron and Ben Solo for tracking him down in the first place.”

  
Ben turned towards Poe and grinned despite himself. _We did it, Poe. We got him._

  
Poe grinned back.

  
Avelin sent a quick, amused smile in their direction before saying to Sarik, more seriously, “It’s a bad situation, Lieutenant. Worse than you thought. We managed to get them out of there, but they’re going to need help after the event.”

  
“That I can see,” Sarik said. “We’ll have to set a trial date for Haranka, but in the meantime...we’ll need to get the slaves rehabilitated. And Mr. Dameron, Mr. Solo, Miss Kente, Mr. Delgado, Ms. Avelin...all of you really have done a spectacular job in uncovering this atrocity. I may have to reward all of you.”

  
The CSF cuffed Haranka and began to lead him away.

  
Haranka sent Ben a smile, the sort that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The sort of smile that suggested that they had a secret, and that Haranka would keep it close even as he went to prison. You may have beaten me, but I have a piece of your psyche, that smile said.  
Ben glared at him, even as Poe stood protectively at his side on one end, Thomas and Annie on the other.

  
“It’s okay, Ben,” Annie said. “He’s just trying to scare you.”

  
“Yeah. He is.” And yet Ben’s head was roiling long after they walked back to the shuttle with what Haranka said, and he wondered if he would ever, truly get ahold of his anger.  
  



	20. Chapter Nineteen: Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben catches his breath a bit after Haranka and we learn more about Yana/Snoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“I heard that you got a slaver arrested today.” said Yana.

  
They were walking up the path through the courtyard where the Enclave was. Ben looked around at the others, who were currently deep in practice meditating (something that he doubted that he could ever do) and sparring, and he wondered absently if he would ever be as good as they were. They seemed to be so in control at times, where Ben was still struggling to get ahold of his own anger.

  
To think that he could have cut off someone’s hands...

  
What had been frightening was how easily it had come to Ben. How simply. How carelessly. How he could have done it so easily during the battle, caught up in rage as he was.

  
“Yeah.”

  
“You don’t sound happy, Ben. Are you all right?”

  
“I feel...” Like I screwed up still. Like I lost control of my temper and hurt someone again. Like I did something that I shouldn’t have even in the midst of doing the right thing.

“I don’t regret that I brought Haranka in. I just wish I hadn’t cut his hands off.”

  
“No need to fret yourself over that, Ben.”

  
“Really?” Ben said. “But it’s...wrong, isn’t it?”

  
“You did a hard thing, Ben. But despite what Haranka told you, it was ultimately the right thing.”

  
Ben smiled weakly. “I hope so.”

  
“It is so.”

  
“I don’t feel right is all,” said Ben. “I don’t feel...” He sighed. “Like I’m strong enough. Like I’m good enough. I don’t feel like a particularly good person.”

 

  
“Why is that, Ben?”

  
Ben shrugged. “I just don’t. I worry about losing my temper.”

  
Silence. Across the courtyard, Master Mei chastised her Padawan for playing too roughly with another Padawan.

  
“Do you really believe that the Jedi are actually the best way?” Yana said. “The way that they encourage you to suppress your emotions? The way that they encourage not getting angry but instead encourage patience and passivity.” He made sure to add scornful emphasis to “patience” and “passivity”.

  
“Well...they have good reasons for it.”

  
“I’m sure that they sounded good in their minds,” said Yana. “But really, Ben, is it applicable? When the galaxy is in disarray, is it applicable?”

 

  
“Well, it can make sure that you’re okay. I guess.”

  
“For some perhaps. But by and large, patience has never applied to those who have suffered most.”  
Ben looked up at him. “You know from experience?”

 

  
“Too well, unfortunately. I do admit, Ben, that you do...remind me of myself.” Yana smiled. “I am aware that among human young it provokes quite a bit of eye rolling, but it is true. When I was the age you are now, I believed.”

  
And Ben could already sense a sort of shame and embarrassment, as if somehow talking about this was painful for Yana. Even shameful. But there was no shame in such things. Was there?

  
“What happened?”

  
“It did not work, Ben. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, the Council refused to help Milara. The Senate as well. They simply refused. It was as if they thought Milara was insignificant in the long run.”

  
“But that isn’t fair or right,” Ben said. “Someone should have helped you.” He took Yana’s hand again, a hand that seemed giant even in comparison to his rather-big hands. “I’m sorry.”

  
“You are very kind. The galaxy needs those who can set it right, Ben, and I believe that you are the one to do it.”

  
“You really think so?” Ben said.

  
“Yes.”

  
“Then it won’t just be Haranka,” Ben said. “I’ll do whatever I can just to make things right.”

  
“Where do you want to start after this is over?”

  
“Anywhere,” said Ben. “Anywhere.”


	21. Chapter Twenty: Mutual Victories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben Solo and co. have to testify against Haranka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope this is good, at least. The most I know about the legal system at all comes from trying to defend Sunry on Manaan in KOTOR, and reading two James Scott Bell books (fiction, not nonfiction). So...this may not be very good.

The trial came up.

 

Already, Ben was nervous. No, that was an understatement. Actually, he was terrified. Perhaps it was just the matter of facing Haranka in court -- it wasn’t like he wouldn’t, but he wasn’t looking forward to seeing Haranka do what he did again. He could still remember the way Haranka had smiled at him, like they shared some sort of secret. In a way, they did share a secret; Haranka had seen the impact of anger in Ben’s life, on his movements, things of that nature.

 

He had seen Ben’s worst fears, his worst experiences, all through battle. Even that was enough to make Ben sick even as they headed into the Coruscanti courtroom, which already seemed enormous, Ben thought. It wasn’t like when he was a kid and everything was taller than Ben Solo, but he still couldn’t help but feel intimidated. His father’s hand on his shoulder kept him grounded in that moment even as they headed into the courtroom, but he still admitted at least to himself that he was scared.

 

“You okay, kid?” Dad said.

 

Ben nodded. In truth, he wasn’t. There was Haranka’s defense lawyer, a well-dressed man in dark blue, standing next to Haranka. There was the prosecution, a gray-haired woman, also in dark blue. There were the witnesses, survivors of this atrocity (including Miranda), and people who hadn’t endured, but had seen.

 

The woman who had pleaded with Haranka to stop turned towards Ben. Nodded. And Ben knew that even though he was only a witness, he was going to do what he could to get justice for the people who had been victimized by this...monster.

 

Ben could sense Haranka’s eyes on him, boring into his soul, that same sort of we-have-a-secret kind of smile on his face. Ben almost wanted to look away, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept Haranka’s gaze, even though he knew without a doubt that he was very much nervous, very much afraid.

 

“If he tries anything, I’ll shoot him,” Dad said.

 

“Dad, don’t,” Ben said. “Please. You’ll get all of us in trouble.”

 

“Okay, fine, I won’t shoot him. But if he tries messing with you, he’ll get a whole army of us.”

 

Ben smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.”

 

The sound of a hammer jolted Ben back to the present. The judge, a Trandoshan, spoke.

 

“Order, order!” the Trandoshan said. “Today we are called here to witness the trial of Haranka Navarre.” Even as he went over the rules of the court, Ben couldn’t help but be nervous. Would he do well? He was only a witness, not a judge, and yet what he’d seen here was enough to make him vow to do what he could in order to help these people.

 

Yes. Anything.

 

The witnesses came out, one by one, giving their side of the story. Talking about beatings, and confinements, and other unspeakable things, and judging from just the impressions he got off them, there was a lot more than even the prosecutor had gotten from them.

 

 _You sick bastard,_ Ben thought. _You sick freak. How could anyone do that to a child? How could anyone? How could you?_

 

_How could you?_

 

He glared at Haranka. Haranka did not falter. Instead, he smiled, and Ben wanted to lunge through the crowd and punch him --

 

_No. No. Control, you must learn control. There is no emotion, there is peace..._

 

But even that was a lie.

 

And the defense attorney -- he kept trying to poke holes in their story. Did you really remember it that way, are you sure, did he really hurt you -- things like that. Ben gritted his teeth; how could anyone --

 

A hand on his shoulder. “Hey.” Poe said. “You okay?”

 

Ben nodded. He was now. For the moment.

 

Then it was his turn.

 

He stepped towards the witness stand, and he could feel eyes on him, scrutinizing him, and hear the whispers. And their thoughts too. Haranka -- Haranka was afraid. They’ll find out about my client. Barras will tell them about my client, I just know it. And the Supreme Leader will be furious...

 

So there was something else behind the case. Something else. Someone else.

 

Ben would have to look into it later.

  


More thoughts streamed into his head. The prosecutor

 

_...monster, how could he, hope he gets what he deserves..._

 

the defense lawyer

 

_...disgusting case, really disgusting, but I’d best go through with it; after all, I promised to uphold galactic law, and galactic law demands a fair trial for everyone, plus there’s the matter of the fact that he may just be the attack rancor for the real villain here..._

 

and so many others that for a moment, Ben almost forgot how to stay composed. Only Poe’s hand on his shoulder kept him from losing it completely. Only Poe’s hand on his shoulder kept him grounded, calm, in what seemed like a whole sea of thoughts, a whole sea of impressions.

 

And he could face the prosecutor. Face her questions. He told the story. About the Black Supernova, about what he’d seen. Then it came to the defense attorney, and he dug into Ben.

 

“Is it true that you cut off my client’s hands during the battle in anger, breaking a Jedi rule?”

 

“Objection!” the judge said. “The matter of Jedi rules is irrelevant to the witness’ testimony.”

 

Ben couldn't help but sigh in relief. Finally, he said, “Thank you, Your Honor. I did cut off Haranka’s hands, but it was in the heat of the battle. I’m not proud of it.”

 

“Indeed. One could say that a young boy such as your age, with such a loose grip on his temper, really ought to have -- ’’

 

“Objection!” said the prosecutor. “Didn’t you hear what the judge said? The matter of Jedi rules is irrelevant to the witness’ testimony. Such things ought to be dealt with in the Jedi Order, not here.”

 

Ben couldn’t help but be grateful in that moment. It didn’t mean, however, that he wasn’t already looking away from the defense attorney. He almost wondered if, like Haranka, the defense attorney could practically smell weakness on him.

 

“When you saw the prisoners when you entered the room, did they appear to be in pain?”

 

 _How can you even say otherwise?_ “Yeah,” Ben said. “There was a woman screaming, pleading for mercy.”

 

“From whom, exactly?”

 

“Haranka, of course,” Ben said. “He was torturing another prisoner.”

 

“Did he actually hurt the other prisoner physically?”

 

 _Excuse me?_ “He gave the other prisoner electric shocks,” Ben said, “I don’t know how exactly that’s acceptable.”

 

“Not exactly acceptable, Mr. Solo, but how strong were the electric shocks?”

 

 _Are we really going into details here?_ “They were pretty strong,” Ben said. “The other prisoner was screaming.”

 

“Was there any motive for the act?”  
  


“I’m not exactly in a position to question him, sir.”

 

“Did you get the sense in any way that my client was somehow threatened or cowed?”

 

“Not...” That question, Ben thought, was something he hadn’t really thought of before. “Not exactly, sir. He seemed to be acting alone.”

 

“Seemed,” said the defense attorney. “Seemed, Mr. Solo? You are a Jedi, aren’t you? You should know.”

 

“Objection!” said the judge. “Personal attacks on the witness are not permitted in open court, Mr. Barras.”

 

“Jedi aren’t exactly gods, sir,” Ben said.

 

“Fair enough,” Mr. Barras said. He stroked his chin. “I have no more questions for Mr. Solo.”

 

“Very well,” said the judge. “Send in the other witnesses.”

 

The others stepped forward, from Annie and Thomas, who served to corroborate what exactly what Ben had said, to Poe.

 

“Good luck, Poe,” Ben said.

 

Poe nodded. “Thanks.” He walked towards the witness stand.

 

Mr. Barras looked down at Poe, and there was something about him that made Ben wonder if he was some sort of humanoid falcon, looking down at the others. Then, “You’re Poe Dameron, are you not? Shara Bey’s son?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“The same one who searched the systems for the Black Supernova?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How did you know it was the very one?”

 

“Ben gave me a description in his original holomail about it,” Poe said.

 

“And that could have been any ship, couldn’t it?”

 

Poe tilted his head. “Well, I’m sure it wasn’t the band on tour, sir.”

 

In the jury box, Ben could have sworn that he saw one of the jurors put a hand over his mouth to suppress a chuckle.

 

“I see,” Mr. Barras said. “You were there when Ben Solo and the others infiltrated the base, am I correct?”  
  


“I was,” Poe said.

 

“Did he do anything that incited Ben Solo and the others to strike first?”

 

“He pulled a vibroblade on us,” Poe said, “He wasn’t exactly going quietly, if you get my drift.”

 

“Is it possible that he was defending himself?”

 

“Well, Lieutenant Avelin was mostly going to arrest him.”

 

“Either way, would you say that he was defending himself?”

 

“Not really, sir.”

 

Ben sent Poe a quick grin. Keep going, Poe. You’re doing great.

 

“He also threatened Ben,” Poe said. “Or tried to intimidate him. Not exactly the things you do when you’re defending yourself.”

 

“How do you know that he was threatening him?”

 

Mr. Barras probably had a point here. It wasn’t like he was innocent, Ben thought. It wasn’t like he was entirely the good guy.

 

“Well, he seemed to single Ben out in particular,” Poe said. “There were others he could have gone after, but he chose Ben.”

 

“Because Ben cut his hands off?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Wouldn’t it be an understandable reaction to someone cutting off your hands?”

 

Silence.

 

“Not exactly, sir.”

 

Avelin was next, after Poe, giving out more information about Haranka, who had apparently intimidated her in the police booth when she was questioning him, talking about her combat movements (and there was more, Ben knew. He could see the picture too well in her mind. “Ms. Avelin, ma’am, did your previous partner ever forgive you? I can only assume that she didn’t.” Whatever it was, he wished that there was some way to comfort her), and Mr. Barras slowly but surely starting to question everything she did, everything that was presented, including whether or not she had a warrant to search the Telos academy (which she had). And then there was Haranka. Even hearing his justifications for his actions -- and the word “justifications” was used loosely -- there was something about them that made Ben feel as if nausea was clamping his stomach in a vise. Only Poe’s touch to his shoulder kept him steady.

 

Finally, it was time for the closing statements.

 

“I think the testimonies of the witnesses speak for themselves,” said the prosecutor. “Whether or not Haranka was bullied into this, he’s caused too much suffering to his victims. Not to mention his other acts, intimidating an officer and a fourteen year old boy, are hardly the behavior of an innocent man. He’s not innocent. He is deplorable. He is a sign of the slavery problem that we should have eliminated a long time ago, but simply couldn’t do. Every one of us is culpable in one way or another, and in arresting Haranka, we may finally find a way to put it right. Everyone in the galaxy deserves equality and respect, and letting a man such as this go betrays everything the Republic stands for.”

 

Ben turned to look at her, grinned. The way she spoke, the conviction in her voice -- she sounded almost like Mom, actually, in a way.

 

Mr. Barras gave his statement not long after hers. “As much as these witnesses are telling the truth, crucial information is being overlooked here. My client was clearly tricked into this by Supreme Leader Snoke, whoever he is. He is nothing more than a puppet of the true villain.”

 

It was minutes later that they gave the guilty verdict, and Haranka was led out. Even being led out of the courtroom, Haranka turned to look at Ben, and smiled. That same we-have-a-secret sort of smile. That smile that didn't reach his eyes.

 

Ben was left in the courtroom with the others long after Haranka was led away, still haunted by that smile. He was haunted by it even as they went to the shuttle.

 

 _You may have won this day but I know your mind. A bit of a dual victory, isn’t it?_ that smile seemed to say. _Have you really beaten me?_

 

_Have you really beaten me when you can’t save yourself?_


	22. Chapter Twenty One: The Search For Snoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the puzzle gets a little more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It was on the way home from the trial that what exactly happened with Haranka was still on Ben’s mind. Even playing sabaac with Poe again -- at least Haranka wasn’t in the back seat staring at them -- Ben couldn’t help but remember that smile of Haranka’s, everything the defense attorney had said. In a way, the defense attorney was right. In a way, he had seen too well into Ben’s soul, into his insecurities, and he hated it.

 

Always the threat of falling to the Dark Side. Nothing was ever relaxed -- it was nothing like Uncle Luke, who seemed to be almost flawless in terms of resisting the Dark Side. It was nothing like any of the other Padawans, who seemed to at least not have some of the issues that Ben had. It always did feel like crossing a tightrope, or crossing thin ice. Uncle Luke had said that falling to the Dark Side wasn’t really like flipping a switch, but what if it was? What if one wrong move and Ben --

 

“Hey,” Poe said. “Everything okay?”

 

Ben shook his head.

 

“Is it about what that defense attorney son of a schutta said?”

 

Silence.

 

“It is, isn’t it?”

 

Ben chuckled weakly. “It wasn’t anything personal, Poe.”

 

“Personal, shmersonal. He hurt you.” Poe put down his sabaac cards to take Ben’s hands. Ben felt his heart suddenly speed up, and not unpleasantly so. “Believe me, I felt the same way. The defense lawyer quizzing me like that, asking if things really happened like that, but the thing is, Ben, we know the truth. We know what happened. And nothing can take that away from you in the slightest.”

 

“No. No, it doesn’t.” _But what about feeling angry, all the time? What about what I did?_

 

“There’s more, isn't there?”

 

Ben bit his lip. “You know what you said about anger and red lightsabers?”

 

Poe nodded.

 

“Well, the thing is...I feel like I might actually end up like that. Regarding Haranka...I shouldn’t have cut off his hands. He was able to read me like that, and...”

 

“And he threatened you,” Poe said. “I don’t care what the defense said; he threatened you, and that wasn’t all right.”

 

“No. No, it wasn’t.”

 

“Besides,” Poe said, “You did battle, didn’t you? Stuff like that happens in battle.”

 

“I guess so.”

 

“You’re a good person, honest. Don’t ever doubt that.”

 

“And you’re a good person too, Poe. You are. You really are.”

 

Poe’s smile in that moment could have illuminated the whole shuttle, and it was beautiful to see. That was the sort of smile that Ben wanted to get out of him, always. Bright, incandescent, the sort of smile that could put the sun to shame.

 

“So I guess we’re going to have to start looking for Snoke,” Ben said. “Whoever he is.”

 

“You think that the defense lawyer wasn’t just using him to get Haranka out of trouble?”  
  


“No,” Ben said. “I mean, I read Haranka’s mind when I was going up to the witness stand. There was a Snoke out there, a Snoke he was afraid of somehow revealing. Guess the question is who is he.”

 

***

It was at home that Poe started researching the matter of Snoke, as Ben had laid out for him. But as much as he typed in stuff like “Supreme Leader”, “Snoke”, or “Supreme Leader Snoke”, or anything like that, it just didn’t come back up. Nothing. For all intents and purposes, whoever this Snoke was...he probably didn’t exist.

 

Poe sighed and typed a holomail to Ben.

 

_Sorry, Ben. I looked it up and there’s really nothing about a Supreme Leader, or a Snoke for that matter. Just wondering who calls themselves Snoke anyway; doesn’t exactly strike fear into the hearts of your enemies, does it?_

 

He sent it. At least, he thought, he could get some chuckles over the idea of, simply, who would name themselves Snoke. And now he waited. In the background, Dad was watching Coruscant Knights, some sort of mystery holoseries about Jedi solving mysteries. That was something Poe would have to get into when he had the time. Ben could get into it too.

 

Another buzz on his datapad. Ben again.

 

_I don’t really have an answer to your Snoke question. (You’re right, it doesn’t really strike fear into the hearts of your enemies. Compared to the Emperor, Darth Vader, Darth Revan, Darth Malak, Darth Sion, “Snoke” sounds a bit silly. A little like a cartoon holo character)_

 

_And kidding aside, I don’t have an answer to your question about the archives. Maybe someone deleted it? I mean, I can’t imagine that Haranka just made it up. It’s not like he knew I was reading his mind or anything like that._

 

Poe sighed. _Good point,_ he typed. _If I run into anything else, I’ll let you know._

 

He sent it. Ben’s message back was instantaneous. _Poe Dameron, you are a galactic hero._

 

 _Sweet,_ Poe typed, _Do I get a medal?_

 

A beep. I’ll find one.

 

Awesome. I’ll keep an eye out.

 

Another beep. Thank you.


	23. Chapter Twenty Two: It Started With A Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben is curious about who Snoke is, and Yana/Snoke gives him a bit of Milaran history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was actually pretty fun. I didn't think worldbuilding would be this fun (because I kind of suck at worldbuilding, actually), but it was, it really was.

Turning fifteen wasn’t like the my-Force-amazing of turning thirteen.

 

At thirteen years old, you got to understand that yes, this really was a big deal, and yes, you were moving into teenagehood. At fifteen, it really was just another age. Nothing particularly special. The midway point, the transition.

 

In the meantime, Ben practiced. He practiced however he could. Practiced lightsaber combat, practiced the Force, taught them to Jaina as well whenever he could. Jaina had turned five and was learning faster by the day, and Ben felt the sort of pride in her that one would find in an older brother, not so much a cousin. His little cousin was growing up, and he was watching it happen. And he also did what he could to keep updated on what Poe was doing.

 

And doing some research.

 

It was in the library that he ran into Yana. He was already getting back from an argument with the historian, Karanna Nona, about the matter of Snoke being in the databases, and Ben was already frustrated. His hands were tense, and he already felt the familiar tension of his anger going through him. He hated those times. It was irrational, of course; Ms. Nona was doing her job, and he could accept it. It was just the matter of how searches for Snoke seemed to turn up a dead end.

 

“If you’re searching for information here,” Yana said wryly, from where he was sitting at one of the tables, “You may be disappointed.”

 

“It’s not really her fault.” Ben sat down next to Yana. “I mean, she is doing her job. I was just searching for something.”

 

“What, exactly?”

 

“Something Haranka’s defense lawyer said at the trial’s still bugging me,” Ben said. “About Snoke. Whoever he is.”

 

“Perhaps said lawyer said it to get his client out of trouble.”

 

“I read Haranka’s mind. He was afraid of getting whoever was really behind it into trouble, basically.” Ben sighed. “I was wondering who exactly calls themselves Snoke anyway.”

 

Yana nodded. “It is a long story. I hope you don't mind a bit of Milaran history. Youth frequently don’t desire to hear about the old.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Ben said. And if it gets me closer to learning more about whoever the Supreme Leader is, all the better.

 

“Long ago,” Yana began, “When Milara was young, there was a great famine. It laid waste to the plains of Milara as well as her people, and in the wake of it, a great and terrible dictatorship arose with the promise of restoring order...”

 

Even as Yana continued with his story, a story about the horrors that the dictator Sarlis set up, Ben could not help but lean in, utterly horrified by what Sarlis did. The tortures that he wrought -- they sounded too much like what Haranka had done.

 

“And finally, amidst the pain and sorrow of what Sardis had wrought, the Milarans found themselves a leader. A teacher. A savior. His birth name was Freyus of Milara, but he became known as Snoke of the Forests.”

 

“So Snoke is a title?” Ben said.

 

Yana looked at him critically, almost as if saying, silently, do-you-want-to-hear-the-rest-of-the-story-or-not.

 

“Forgive me,” Ben said. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

 

“No need to apologize. Snoke is indeed a title. In the Milaran language, it means savior. And at that time, he was what the Milarans needed, desperately. A savior, a leader, a teacher. With his troops, he fought many battles until finally he came face to face with Sarlis. Sarlis was arrogant, believing that a mere peasant could not defeat him -- ’’

 

“That’s their problem, isn’t it?” Ben said. “They’re always arrogant. You never hear about a bad guy with a realistic view of their strengths and weaknesses, right, or an inferiority complex?”

 

“It is rare, I can assume,” said Yana. “But Sarlis and Snoke dueled, and Snoke defeated him.”

 

“Guess he wasn’t just a peasant after all,” Ben said.

 

“From that hour henceforth, he was the new leader of Milara, and brought to Milara an age of prosperity and grace. Even now, he is immortalized in Milaran history as the being who made it all possible.”

 

“He sounds like something,” Ben said.

 

“He was, Ben. Still is. It’s said that the title is passed on from hero to hero of our generation. A leader who can liberate the Milaran people, and the galaxy as a whole.”

 

“Why would this Supreme Leader think of himself as a hero?” After all he’s done, at that? Ben couldn’t picture it. He simply couldn’t.

 

“That, Ben, is something that you need to find out for yourself.”

 

It was later on that Ben managed to contact Poe. After a moment of Poe muttering something about “the banthas stole my pants”, he stumbled over to the console.

 

“Hey, Ben,” he said.

 

“Hey. Did I wake you?”

 

“You didn’t miss much. Weird dream.”

 

“Banthas stealing your pants?”

 

Poe laughed. “Yeah. So...found anything?”

 

“I got some more information on Snoke,” Ben said, “Whoever he is.”

 

“Really?” Poe said. “That’s wonderful! Great to hear. So, what did you find?”

 

“He’s some sort of Milaran...messiah figure.” Even describing what he had heard to Poe, Ben couldn't help but be caught up in the story all over again, even despite himself. There was something about Snoke of the Forests that suggested that if he could bring down a man like Sarlis, why couldn’t they bring down any injustice that the Galaxy had to offer?

 

When Ben finished, Poe nodded. “Question is,” he said, “Why would someone use the name of a Milaran messiah figure to support slavery?”

 

“I don’t know,” Ben said. “Maybe...maybe they were a fan of the story and thought that they could use that name. Or maybe their parents liked the story and named them that.”

 

“Maybe,” Poe said.

 

Silence.

 

“So who do you think it is?” Poe said.

 

“I don’t know. Maybe we should just keep an eye out. Anyone acting suspicious. But...” Ben bit his lip. “Maybe nothing too conspicuous.”

 

“Spying.” Poe grinned at him, the sort of grin that suggested he could take on the galaxy. The sort of grin that Ben loved about him, among many other things. “Sounds awesome. Let’s do it.”

 

“Yeah,” Ben said, and even despite himself, he couldn’t help but grin back. “Let’s do it.”


	24. Chapter Twenty Three: Horizons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see what exactly has become of Atin the Mandalorian/Narudar Ren, and things get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I have to apologize for the characterization of Luke in this chapter. Mostly I'm going for a man who is doing his best considering the situation he's in (he's afraid that the Jedi are being manipulated into all this), but I don't know if it works or not. Again, I'm really sorry.

The problem with spying was the matter of candidates to actually sort out.

 

There were candidates, of course, no mistake, but Ben couldn’t say he could find them yet. Even the matter of Master Naris -- he hated Master Naris for his general sadism towards his students, but he couldn’t find anything that would suggest that Naris was actually the Supreme Leader. Even going through Naris’ thoughts -- all while trying to pretend you were casual, of course, pretend that you weren’t doing anything -- didn’t yield any results, other than learning what exactly had turned Naris into such a sadist -- the death of his Padawan during the Purges. Ben could at least feel some pity for him there. He couldn’t say that he liked him, of course, but he could feel some pity.

 

Uncle Luke didn’t like him going through minds, of course. And Ben couldn’t help but feel some guilt doing it -- after all, you couldn’t just go through minds like they were archives. And yet at the same time, it seemed like the most reliable option to take. You didn’t have to go through other options that would actually risk you getting caught, or anything like that. You could do some double-checking after eavesdropping, or even while you were doing it, all while acting casual.

 

What was getting disturbing was how easy it was sometimes. The leakover aside, the cluster of thoughts that occasionally felt like a whole tidal wave of needs, wants, fears, and more, Ben didn’t know if it was necessarily right. Taking advantage of how sensitive he was to others’ thoughts...was it right?

 

And then there was the threat of war on the horizon. Everything that Ben had heard about Narudar Ren -- he was ruthless, cruel, vicious, had left several towns in pieces. Even hearing about it on the Holonet, feeling it through the Force as well, made him wonder why Uncle Luke didn’t do something about it. He had to, right? He had to at least do something. He couldn’t just stand back and watch while others were being slaughtered.

 

It wasn’t like Ben could do anything as is; he was only fifteen years old, three years away from signing up for military service. But he could at least try and talk Uncle Luke into it, right?

 

Unfortunately, talking with his uncle wasn’t enough to persuade him. “We have to be careful,” Uncle Luke said. “There’s a threat out there, behind Narudar Ren. We have to be cautious. For all intents and purposes, we may be walking into a trap.”

 

“How...” Ben still couldn’t believe it. “Walking into a trap -- people are dying out there!”

 

“I know, Ben.” The best that Ben could take in terms of what his uncle was doing was that at least he wasn’t doing this out of spite. He really seemed to think that there was someone out there -- Snoke, maybe? Whoever Snoke was... “But we can’t afford to rush in like that. We have to wait for Snoke to show himself.”

 

“We can’t just wait,” Ben said. “People are dying out there, Uncle.” A beat. “Please.”

 

Their eyes met, and Ben wondered what exactly was behind his uncle’s eyes that was preventing him, more than anything, from understanding. Then Uncle Luke spoke again. “I’m sorry, Ben,” he said. “I’m going to have to deliberate some more about this.”

 

You always deliberate, Ben thought, but he didn’t say it out loud. It wasn’t true, of course, but in the midst of his frustration that seemed to surround him like a sea, Ben knew he would have said anything just to get through to his uncle. Somehow.

 

***

 

The thing was that in times like these, when it seemed like the Mandalorian Wars of old were starting to repeat themselves (at least from what Poe had heard in his history classes; those wars had obviously happened long before he was born), was that the best thing to do was sign up. Poe could still remember what his mother had once said about why she and his father had ultimately signed up to fight against the Empire: they couldn’t simply stand by while other people suffered. And like both his parents, Poe doubted that he could stand by while other people suffered either.

 

It was just a matter of signing up. He was old enough, after all. Some were accepting soldiers as young as fifteen years old, but Poe was old enough to sign up, eighteen years old, and he could go there.

 

So it was really a matter of running towards Ben outside the Enclave of Yavin IV, and Ben catching him. “Hey, Poe,” he said, long after they’d hugged, long after Poe had been all but swept into Ben’s embrace (Poe was older, but Ben was taller). “What’s the good news?”

 

“I signed up to be a Republic pilot.”

 

“Congratulations, Poe!” Ben grinned even as he spoke. “You’re going to be fantastic, I just know it. One of the best.”

 

They hugged again, and Poe found himself taking in Ben’s scent. Yavin IV’s scent, a scent like jungles and forests and racing through them, a smell that was a lot, actually, like home. It was still funny that Ben was taller than he was despite being three years younger than him, and Poe found himself taking comfort in his presence. He was grounded, he was home. Ben was as much home as anything else, anyone else.

 

He was going to miss Ben when he went away, he knew that. Poe did love the stars, ever since he heard them from his parents’ stories as a boy, but he was going to miss Ben.

 

Did he have to miss Ben, though?

 

“You could come with me,” he said. “I mean, we could use all the Jedi we can get.”

 

Ben looked, just for a moment, as if he were considering it, before he said, “I can’t.”

 

“Why not?” Poe said. “Think of the things we could do. Together.”

 

He was already hyperfocused on Ben’s face, quietly pleading with him to just say yes...

 

But Ben shook his head. “I’m too young,” he said.

 

“They’ve been accepting some people in earlier, haven’t they?”

 

“Yeah. But still...I’m way too young.”

 

“Right.” Poe bit his lip. He had almost wished that Ben could come with him. To think of the things that they could do together, to think of the things that could happen...

 

“But I’m going to do what I can to persuade Uncle Luke to do something,” Ben said. “I’ve got to. I mean, even if he doesn’t want to -- ’’

 

“What do you mean ‘doesn’t want to’?” Poe said.

 

“He’s hesitating. I wouldn’t say it’s like he doesn’t want to act, but it’s like he’s...on the edge of something. Like he’s deliberating or whatnot.”

 

“He shouldn’t!”

 

“I know.” Ben’s face was solemn. “It’s not fair. But I’m going to do what I can to argue, and...well, I’ll do what I can to help you. Even if I can’t go into the military yet.”

 

They hugged again, and Poe almost wished that they could stay that way. Then Ben drew away. “Just be careful, Poe,” he said. “Don’t get yourself killed out there. And...if you need me, you always know where to find me.”

 

“I’ll write,” Poe said.

 

“Same here. And Poe?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Ben’s smile was practically radiant. “May the Force be with you.”

 

“You too.”

 

Poe headed towards his ship, and even getting inside and blasting off into the sky, he could only hope against hope that he would see Ben again.


	25. Chapter Twenty Four: Narudar Attacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Poe Dameron gets a first glimpse at the destruction that Narudar leaves behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

There was something about the destruction that, even heading over the city, was glorious.

 

The only thing that it was missing was a Basilisk war droid, actually, but this ship would do. It was good for raining destruction upon the city, the sort of destruction that, actually, was long overdue.

 

At the turrets, Narudar Ren, formerly Atin Ordo, manned the turrets, firing them at buildings and watching in fascination even as they crumbled to the ground so easily. And to think he had wasted his life like this so far working for the Hutts on Nar Shaddaa? When all this glory, all this splendor, was right in front of him?

 

It was a pleasure to watch the destruction.

 

It was even more of a pleasure knowing that the destruction had a purpose. They were reminding the galaxy too well of Althir, of Cathar, of the battles in the Mandalorian Wars that echoed throughout history and always would. Of what Death Watch had done during the Clone Wars.

 

He was finishing what Death Watch started long ago, and it was beautiful.

 

***

 

Black Squadron flew over a vision of hell.

 

It seemed as if things were already bad and getting worse in a hurry. There was fire spreading through the city, flames licking hungrily at city walls even as civilians made their way to the medical frigates that were already parked in the hangar bay.

 

Not that they always made it there either. Even seeing the buildings crumble under the weight of a blast, sometimes on top of fleeing civilians, it was enough to make Poe feel suddenly very sick.

 

“It doesn’t look good, Black Leader.” Jessika Pava spoke this time. “There’s...there’s not a single thing that isn’t on fire, actually. It’s all fire.”

 

“I know.” And Poe already felt sick even thinking about it. Seeing it, fire falling from the sky even as Narudar and his men shot at the civilians as if they were no more than womprats someone would shoot at in their T-16...

 

“Black Squadron,” Poe said, “We’ve got to cover any survivors while they get to the medical frigates. We have to give them a fighting chance.”

 

“Copy that, Black Leader.” Snap, this time.

 

“Lock S-foils in attack position. Stay in formation. We’re going in.”

 

Poe headed towards the ships just then, and began shooting. And even as the ships fell like shooting stars towards the ground, he could only assure himself he was doing the right thing in the end, that he was defending the city from further harm.

 

Yes. He was.

 

Narudar was at least diverted long enough to start shooting and firing at them, and dodging out of the way, Poe continued to shoot at him. A lucky hit, and Narudar’s ship headed towards the ground, smoking.

 

“Good shot, Black Leader!” Jess’s voice, this time. “You did it! You got him down!”

 

Poe nodded. “We’ve got him. But we better get to the ground and get everyone else to safety. Find any survivors. And,” he said, “Get Narudar into custody. He’s done enough damage.”

 

They headed towards the ground in that moment, and it seemed that there were countless people struggling to get to the frigates, struggling to get debris off them. Poe got out of the X-wing and ran towards them, BB-8 wheeling behind him, the rest of the team pulling them out of the wreckage. One of them was a young girl, probably eleven years old or so, blond hair in braids.

 

“Are you all right?” Poe said. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

 

“Teria.”

 

“I’m Poe Dameron. We’re here to rescue you.”

 

A laser shot down from the sky. Poe ducked, as did Teria. Behind him, Jess, who had barely gotten out of the way in time, was already helping the other civilians towards the hangar, and Snap was shooting at the ships. Probably to buy them some time, Poe thought.

 

“We have to get to the frigate,” Poe said. “Follow me.”

 

Teria nodded.

 

It was once everyone was on the frigate (along with Narudar, who was currently sedated) that Poe got back in his X-wing. “Right,” he said, “We’re going to cover them long enough to get to hyperspace.”

 

“Copy that, Black Leader,” said Jess.

 

They lifted off, shooting at the ships who were currently firing at the frigates. They fell, like stars fallen out of the sky.

 

“Good shooting, Snap!” Jess, this time, over the headset.

 

“No problem,” Snap said. “I think I got enough of them. Enough to get to hyperspace.”

 

“We all did. Good shooting, everyone,” Poe said. “Meet you back at Coruscant.”

 

They shot off into hyperspace with the rest of the frigates, and hopefully, Poe thought, home.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five: Puzzles and Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Narudar is interrogated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The road back to Coruscant seemed to take too long of a time. Poe could still see the burning city in front of his eyes, could still hear the screams in his ears, could still...

 

He had never seen war up close and personal before. He had heard stories about how awful the Empire was when he was a child, but he had never seen atrocities in action right here, right now.

 

How that monster had fired upon the buildings and upon civilians like he was running a fighting simulation.

 

And in the end, that was why Poe and others were here, Poe supposed. To fight the bad guys where others were unwilling to.

 

Ben wasn’t unwilling. But it seemed like Luke was. Poe couldn’t say what exactly was the case with that. After all, wasn’t it a Jedi’s job to defend the innocent?

 

Poe’s ship came out of hyperspace just then, towards Coruscant. The amber planet that might as well have been one big city.

 

Everyone landed, got out of their ships and headed onto Coruscant. There was still something about the city that Poe never failed to find absolutely beautiful. The towering, sparkling cities, the glittering towers, the beautiful sunset, things of that matter...it was something that never failed to wow Poe.

 

Poe looked around, already relieved that he wasn’t being surrounded by fire, by screaming and helpless people. He had a feeling, however, that it was going to haunt him for the rest of his days. Everyone who had nearly died. Everyone who had died. They were going to be in his nightmares for years to come.

 

Ben was there, and Poe ran to him, already relieved to see him. There was always something about Ben that made Poe relieved to see him, Poe thought -- something about his face, something about his very presence...

 

They embraced, and Poe was still struck by the fact that Ben was, though younger than him, taller than him as well. He took some solace in Ben’s presence, in the familiar smell of Yavin, inhaling it if only to wash away the smell of smoke and ash that seemed to choke his nostrils and his throat....

 

Finally, Poe drew away. “Ben,” he said, “Narudar -- ’’

 

“I felt it in the Force,” Ben said. “I can’t imagine who would do something like that...”

 

“A monster is what,” Poe said. “A murderer.” He sighed. “They’ve got Narudar Ren in custody, at least. He can’t kill anyone else.”

 

“Good,” Ben said, and Poe could swear that he heard broken transparisteel in that voice. Ben hadn’t had to see what had happened, see how Narudar had fired upon buildings as if he were some guy shooting womprats. He knew. He simply knew.

 

“How is your uncle?” Poe said. Please tell me he’s come to his senses...

 

“Still ‘deliberating,’” said Ben bitterly. “The whole galaxy could be in danger of blowing up and all he’d do is deliberate. I’m sorry, Poe.”

 

“Not your fault. I was thinking -- ’’

 

“Could I continue to raise awareness however I could?” Ben said. “Anything, Poe. Anything. And I’m keeping an eye out for Snoke too...whoever he is.”

 

“Have you found anything?”

 

“Not yet. But I promise, if I do, I’ll let you know.”

 

***

Harry Sarik was no stranger to the disturbing. He’d questioned many people in his lifetime, including someone who had killed his whole family (something that was still burned into his mind and he had a feeling it would be for the rest of his days), but there was something about bringing Narudar in that was enough to give him the chills. The heebie-jeebies, as his daughter would have said.

 

That stare through the helmet that seemed designed to make sure the face was as inscrutable as possible for starters. How Narudar stood -- there wasn’t an ounce of shame in that bastard, but...pride. Pride, as if killing all those civilians was some sort of accomplishment. Sarik had heard stories about the Mandalorian Wars, but he hadn’t thought that he would see a man devoted to destruction as the old Mandalorians apparently were.

 

The guards roughly forced Narudar into a chair. They pulled the helmet off, and Sarik didn’t know what to expect under it. Maybe a face horrifically scarred from battle, anything like that. But instead, pulling it off, the face looked almost...normal, actually. Scarred, of course, haggard, but nonetheless normal.

 

He didn’t even flinch. There was something about those eyes were they seemed to hold a proud sort of defiance in them. Then, “Henry Sarik. What an unexpected pleasure.”

 

Sarik could swear that his skin had turned to worms. Still, he kept his composure and said, “Narudar Ren. So you’re the one Dameron caught.”

 

“I am. Remind me to compliment Dameron the next time I see him. He is indeed a worthy opponent. His skills in piloting and combat are formidable.” Narudar looked thoughtful, almost dreamy. “I can’t say I’ve found a worthy opponent in years. Not after working for the Hutts.”

 

“You worked for the Hutts?”

 

“I used to. It was a thankless life, sir, I don’t believe you have any idea. Working for the Hutts was akin to being a full-time cannok exterminator. Hardly glamorous. Hardly worthy of glory. It was there to put food on the table. Nothing more. You’ve felt that too before, haven’t you, sir? I can only guess.”

 

Sarik flinched. This Mandalorian seemed to be good at getting under his skin. Too good, actually. Then, “And that’s why you did it, didn’t you?”

 

“Destroyed the city? You don’t know how it was, sir. Corruption, misery, greed -- ’’

 

“Everyone in that city was innocent.” It took every bit of Sarik’s self-control not to let his rage bubble to the surface.

 

“You’re naive, sir. If you were there, you would have seen them for how they really were. They were cowards, all of them. Valor’s a trait that’s hard to come by these days.”

 

Sarik forced air into his lungs. Don’t lose your temper, don’t lose your temper... “The others with you...who were they?”

 

“My brothers and sisters.”

 

“Literally?”

 

“Not by blood, sir. We’re bound by a common purpose -- honor and order. Did you know that the word _Ren_ is Milaran for balance? That’s what we seek to do.”

 

“So Ren’s a title, not a name.” Sarik said. Already, the more he was getting into this interrogation, the more uneasy he was getting. A sort of sick feeling in his stomach that wasn’t letting up, almost as if there was something bad about to happen, actually. Something worse, actually, considering that the bad thing had already happened.

 

“Exactly, sir.”

 

“Then who are you?”

 

A smile seemed to play across the Mandalorian’s face. “I daresay that names are irrelevant next to our greater purpose, sir.”

 

“Don’t play games with me.”

 

“I’m not intending to. I’m telling the truth. Names are irrelevant next to our greater purpose.”

 

“Who’s your leader?”

 

“That,” said Narudar, “Would be telling, sir. But he would be very interested to meet all of you, in his own good time. Fascinating man, actually.”

 

“What is his name?”

 

Silence.

 

“Was he the one behind the slave trade?”

 

“It wouldn’t have been his first call,” said Narudar.

 

“So he’s Haranka’s employer. I have no more questions. Thank you for your time, Narudar.”

 

“You’re very welcome.” The Mandalorian smiled pleasantly. “And tell Poe Dameron that he was a worthy opponent today.”

 

_I won’t,_ Sarik thought, even as he left the interrogation room. He didn’t want to burden Dameron with that. At least he could start looking up the Knights of Ren as well as the Black Supernova. Narudar had done something that he really shouldn’t have -- given Sarik the advantage.

 

_I’ll find them. And here’s to rooting them out so they can’t do any more harm. Here’s to that._


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six: Breakout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben goes to search for Jaina on Jakku (which goes as well as you'd expect) and Lisaris bails Narudar out of jail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

In hindsight, heading out to Jakku might have been a case of not quite thinking things through, but Ben had had to do it.

 

It was a matter of stealing a ship from the hangar in the night and having it jump to hyperspace. Ben had reached through the Force if only to find Jaina -- because he refused to believe that she was gone.

 

Even as he wove through the seemingly endless desert, his uncle’s words echoed in his mind. Going out in the desert by yourself is dangerous, Ben...

 

But Ben could do dangerous. He could remember going on expeditions in the jungles of Yavin with Annie and Thomas when he was younger, and the scraped knees that resulted. He could remember breaking his ankle at four years old when first getting his lightsaber crystal. He could remember the slavers, damn them.

 

This shouldn’t have been difficult and yet the heat...the heat...

 

The heat seemed to go on forever. The endless sands...it made Tatooine, he thought, look like Naboo. Even far from the downed Star Destroyer from the battle that happened long before he was born, Ben already doubted he could feel more lost.

 

But he had to keep going. Jaina was out there. Jaina was in pain...

 

Ben practically gulped down the contents of his canteen in the moment he took it out. He hadn’t expected to be so thirsty wandering Jakku, but then again, he didn’t expect Jakku to stretch out into what felt like eternity. The endless desert, where the town seemed to be so far away.

 

Now, he thought, he could focus. He could stretch out. Jaina was here, he simply knew it. She was afraid, very afraid, very uncertain.

 

He stumbled under the heat, the heat that seemed to beat down on his head even as he walked, burning against his scalp, and he cursed himself for having thick hair. Even with a Padawan braid, it seemed that he could not escape the burning heat. It beat down on his neck, on his shoulders, on his skin.

 

Stay steady. Don’t fall over. Get to water -- get to the outpost where you can find water, at least -- if they have it...

 

If

 

if

  
  


if...

 

And then Ben could have sworn that Jakku’s seemingly endless sky spun above him, and the ground rose up to meet him.

 

***

 

It was later that Pava brought in Ben. Covered in sand, lips cracked and bleeding, skin burned, but very much alive. Poe didn’t walk, but ran towards Ben in that moment, BB-8 whirling after him.

 

“Ben -- ’’

 

“He’s badly dehydrated,” Pava said. “He needs water. And it looks like he hasn’t had much food either.”

 

In her arms, Ben muttered something that sounded like, “...Jaina.” His voice was so hoarse that it was barely audible at first, but as Poe approached him, he could hear more. So that was what Ben was doing out there. Searching for his little cousin.

 

Pava laid him tenderly down on the bed even as Poe went over and filled a cup to the brim with water. He walked over to Ben, the cup sloshing in his hands, and held it out to Ben’s lips.

 

“Ben. It’s okay,” Poe said, soothingly. “I got you, Ben.”

 

Ben drank from the glass almost as if he was dying of thirst. All things considered, Poe thought, it was a miracle that he was still alive. That he hadn’t died, actually. They’d nearly lost Ben.

 

He’d nearly lost Ben.

 

And even that thought was terrifying. If he’d lost Ben, if Ben had died in that desert...

 

“Poe,” Ben said, still whispery. “You came for me.”

 

“I always will.”

 

“Need more...water...”

 

***

 

When he awoke, he was in medbay, blinding white medbay with the sort of shine that he hated. He blinked, wishing his eyes would water, but instead they stung but didn’t water.

 

“Ben, it’s okay. Just drink something.” Poe’s voice, the sweetest sound that Ben could possibly hear in this moment.

 

Water. Ben gulped it down urgently; he hadn’t thought that he would miss water that much, but after Jakku, he had a feeling that he would have gulped down every bit of water there was if it soothed his ravaged throat.

 

“You scared the hell out of me, Ben,” Poe said. “All of us. If Jess hadn’t found you...”

 

“Jaina’s gone.”

 

“Easy, Ben.” Poe’s hand smoothed over his forehead, and there was something about that touch that was supposed to be comforting, but Ben could still feel Jaina’s presence all but screaming in his ears. She was still out there, and Ben couldn’t do anything to save her.

 

“She’s gone, Poe, she’s gone.” He was shaking now. His voice cracked, and he wished that he could cry, but it was as if Jakku had dried up his tears.

 

Poe held him then, rubbing circles on Ben’s back even as Ben wept.

***

It was midnight when Lisaris appeared at the door to the interrogation room, and Narudar could not help but be filled with a sort of awe. There was something about him, standing there practically gleaming in the darkness of the hallway outside, that filled Narudar with the sort of reverence that one would have had for their Mandalore in times past.

 

“How did you get here?” Narudar said.

 

“A bit of camouflage.”

 

And Narudar would have to take Lisaris’ word for it, of course. There were things about the Force that, as a non-Force sensitive, felt almost like stepping into a whole different world. Still, a world with someone like Lisaris in it...

 

It was worth thinking about. Worth living in. Worth fighting for.

 

“You took quite a risk, I have to add,” said Lisaris.

 

“How?”

 

“I understand that it’s natural Mandalorian impulse to brag to all and sundry about their battles,” said Lisaris, “But you took a great risk. And not even an admirable risk. I had to make sure all traces of us were scrubbed from the databases.”

 

“Did you?”

 

Lisaris nodded. “Our hacker’s taking care of it right now. As I said, you took quite a risk, Narudar. And a foolish one. Pragmatism in all things over pride.”

 

“Forgive me.”

 

“Just don’t do it again. At least, when you speak, be sure not to tell the interrogator your life story.”

 

“Duly noted. So what do we do now?”

 

“There’s still much to do,” said Lisaris. “We need to report back to the Supreme Leader for our new assignments. But first...” A tilt of his head. “Looks like there are some guards up ahead. Pretty unfair, isn’t it, at least for them?”

 

“Yeah. Poor bastards.”

 

Narudar took out his blaster and opened fire. The guards fell to the floor, and with the combination of blasterfire and Lisaris’ red lightsaber cleaving through their opponents, Narudar knew, in that moment, they were unstoppable.


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven: Knighted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben is knighted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Luke's words here are taken a bit from the Star Wars Wiki page about Knighting ceremonies. I thought I'd use it for reference.

So far, things were already going too well.

 

Years had passed, but things seemed to already be going to plan perfectly, Snoke thought. He had unfortunately lost the other half of his plan, that being Jaina Skywalker, but nonetheless, he knew that Ben would fulfill his destiny too well. He was always meant to be Vader’s Scion. He was always meant to perfectly encapsulate both the Light Side and the Dark, he was always meant to finish what Vader began.

 

And the Starkiller’s construction was already underway.

 

Snoke could only hope that he would have to only use it when it was of utmost necessity. The Starkiller was a powerful weapon, capable of doing what it would, whether it be annihilating fleets or destroying planets. Useful for striking back against their enemies. Snoke had been on the First Death Star, and he had sensed how powerful it was, but also how flawed. How Krennic, the arrogant, unworthy toad, had failed to see that his former friend was working against him. How sentiment had ultimately doomed the Death Star, as well as faith in freedom. Never mind that such things were subjective, personal constructs. Individuality, free will -- they were constructs, not facts.

 

Not that it stopped Leia Organa and others from believing otherwise.

 

Snoke was not a soft creature. That was not why he hesitated to use Starkiller Base immediately. It was practicality. Wanton slaughter was not his goal in that regard. But it was the perfect tactical weapon. No matter where it was, it would be able to destroy the Republic fleet in one stroke when it was finally activated.

 

They had found a planet to mine for crystals. And from there, they could continue to excavate until the planet was ready for harboring the weapon.

 

There was his other weapon too.

 

his greatest weapon and the man snoke found, strangely, he cared for

 

There was Ben.

 

Ben Solo was already eighteen, and Snoke could not help but feel a sort of awe just at that. Every day he had watched Ben grow older, grow from the helpless small child that he had been to a young man who was just starting to make something for himself.

 

Snoke wondered, idly, if that was what a parent felt like, or an artist working on a project and watching it come to life. Of course, Ben had a long way to go. He didn’t have the stoicism of Darth Vader, but he had the determination that wove through him like cold iron, and the commitment to a better cause. He had the skill in combat as well.

 

His skills were blossoming every day, every week, every month, every year. And Snoke could not say that he deserved to be Knighted -- in fact, he deserved something better. Something grander, something greater.

 

All in good time, of course. Snoke would wait, continuing to cultivate his army, his Order, and of course, his masterpiece.

***

 

Today was the day, and Ben doubted that he could have felt more nervous if he tried. He had been dreaming of this day, becoming a Knight, when he was still a young Padawan, but he didn't think that it would come right now. He'd done it. He'd faced the Trials, he'd finally gotten it all done…

 

So why was he so scared? It was supposed to be a joyous time, wasn't it? Everyone was there right now, chatting and joking and mingling, and Ben was standing alone, thinking about what was going to happen next. Already…already, he doubted he could be more scared.

 

Poe got there, disembarking from his X-Wing with BB-8, his new droid, cheerfully rolling alongside him, and Ben’s heart couldn’t help but lift even as Poe did so. His hair was practically wild even as he pulled the helmet off, shaking his hair free. And his eyes -- well, he looked as if he’d climbed out of one of Yavin’s lakes.

 

Poe didn’t walk, he practically ran to Ben’s side, and Ben was swept -- despite their height difference -- into an almost rib-crushing embrace. Ben hugged him back, grinning.

 

Poe buried his head against Ben’s chest, and Ben leaned down, inhaling the scent of Poe against Poe’s shoulder that smelled a lot like X-wing grease and engines.

 

After a long while, Poe withdrew, and he was practically beaming, the sort of smile that never failed to convey that he thought of Ben as something unbelievably precious. “Hey, Ben.”

 

“Hey, Poe.” Ben never failed to be caught off-guard by Poe’s show of enthusiasm whenever he showed up after missions.

 

“I heard about it from your mom. Gotta say, congratulations, Knight Solo!”

 

“Thanks.” Ben didn't have to entirely force a smile here; despite his fear of what was coming up, there was something about Poe's presence that made it...not as scary, actually.

 

Poe looked over his robes then, appreciatively. “New robes?”

 

Ben nodded. They were more ceremonial ones, more for the Knighting Ceremony. They were paler in color, and Ben couldn’t say that they were his taste, he couldn’t say they suited him, but it didn’t matter, not really. Still, the way Poe looked over him...

 

He couldn’t say that anyone had looked at him in a way that made Ben feel as if his heart had sped up suddenly, or his breath hitched, and both of these things were far from unpleasant. Poe’s eyes were on his face, on the collar of his neck, before Poe’s look of almost awe

 

and Ben definitely couldn’t say that he had ever been looked at that way either. It simply wasn’t stuff you saw around the Jedi Order every day

 

was replaced with a smile.

 

“They suit you,” Poe said, and there was something about that gaze, something about how heavy those eyes were on him, that was enough to make Ben feel almost shy, but not in an uncomfortable way. Not necessarily bad. Just shy, in the sort of way that people probably felt

in one of those sappy romantic holos, maybe. Ben could already feel those eyes on him, gentle, reverent eyes, and kind. The stare lasted long enough for Ben to feel his heart starting to beat in his chest.

 

“Thanks.” His voice practically came out as a squeak. Smooth, Ben. Very smooth. Gotta give it up for Calrissian-esque verbalizing that good. You gotta give it up for that.

 

Silence reigned for a long time.

 

“I better go,” Ben said. “They’re waiting for me.”

 

Poe beamed. “Good luck, Ben.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

The Council chamber seemed enormous even as Ben entered it, and Ben wasn’t even in the everything’s-taller-than-me stage anymore. Around him, the Jedi Masters sat, dressed in their finest robes, Uncle Luke at the front. There was silence before he spoke.

 

“We are all Jedi. The Force speaks through us.” There was something about the way Uncle Luke spoke that would have been enough to make all go silent and fix their attention on him. “Through our actions, the Force proclaims itself and what is real. Today we are here to acknowledge what the Force has proclaimed. Ben Solo...”

 

Ben stepped forward. Already, he felt as if his knees had turned to mush, but he couldn’t turn back now. He had done it. He was leaving childhood behind, becoming a good Jedi finally -- it was the sort of thing that was enough to make anyone both excited and nervous. Excited-nervous? That was actually a good word for it.

 

He stopped in front of Uncle Luke, who brought his still-deactivated lightsaber down on either side of Ben’s shoulders. “By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, I dub thee Jedi, Knight of the Republic.” Uncle Luke beamed. “Congratulations, Ben.”

 

Ben swallowed. Already, he felt tears start to form in his eyes.

 

Then with an ignition of Uncle Luke’s lightsaber, Ben’s Padawan braid fell to the floor just then, and Ben knew, somehow, that it was akin to the beginning of his new life as a Knight and the end of his old life as a Padawan. He was no longer a child. He was now as good as an adult, stepping into this strange and new adult world.

 

And it hit him, almost like a runaway speeder. He didn't have much of a choice going into adulthood; he was practically being propelled there, sped into there, and there was no way he could ask time just to slam on the brakes.

 

There was no going back. Even stepping out of the chambers, Padawan braid in hand, Ben had to lean against the wall for support in that knowledge. No going back no going back no going back...

 

“Hey.” Thomas’ arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Ben.”

 

“I’m scared.” And he knew he shouldn’t be. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering...but nobody turned to the Dark Side just because of being scared of their Knighting ceremony, right? They just didn’t, right?

 

“I know. I know you are. Breathe, Ben. Just breathe.”

 

Ben took a deep breath. Somehow, even that was grounding. Almost as if it was reminding him of where he was, reminding him to stay calm even though gods knew it was hard. Unfortunately, it reminded him of another detail that Ben didn't want to think about. Dad wasn't there yet. It wasn't like it was a big deal, and yet it didn't feel right; Dad should be there, he should --

 

“He should be here by now...” Ben was aware of how childish he sounded, and yet he couldn't help it. It wasn't like Dad to be late for things like this. It wasn’t right either. Dad should be in the crowd, Dad should be grinning ridiculously wide in the sort of smile that he saved just for Ben, like Ben was perfect and for a moment, none of his obvious, obvious faults mattered.

 

“He will, Ben.” Mei placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Besides, you sithouldn't worry too much about him. Tonight’s for you, and you alone.”

 

“Thank you, Master Mei.”

 

Outside, there were people laughing and chatting and mingling, and Ben couldn't help but smile, but it was a sad one. Dad probably had his reasons for not being there, of course, but the truth was, it wasn't just the Knighting ceremony. Ben was too used to feeling like his parents were just cut out of his life, like someone who was supposed to be in the holo but just didn't show up. He just wished that it didn't have to be that way. You could always have it worse, and yet still, it was painful.

 

He turned to look at Poe. “There's actually something I want to give you,” he said.

 

He held out the Padawan braid that Uncle Luke had cut from his head, and he didn't know how Poe would react to it at first. Somehow, it felt as if Ben were offering a piece of himself up, just to Poe, a reminder of the times that they had shared when Ben was a kid. Now that I'm no longer a kid…

 

“Ben...” Already, Poe sounded amazed, even touched.

 

“It isn't much,” Ben said, “But I thought that you would like to have it. Just to...” Remember me. Something so small that had a whole slew of memories attached to it.

  


Poe hugged him again, and there was something about it that made Ben’s heart skip a beat in his chest. The hug lasted long enough, Ben thought, to make him feel almost as if his worries were far away.

 

Poe drew away eventually, and said, “I’d love it, Ben. Thank you so much. I actually have something for you too.”

 

It was one of the crystals they'd found while exploring Yavin IV. A silver crystal, one of the rarest, one of the most beautiful out there. And Ben looked at Poe in amazement.

 

“Poe...”

 

“I thought you'd like to have it,” Poe said. Just to remember, was the unspoken sentiment. Just so you don't have to leave your memories behind.

 

Ben grinned at him. “Poe,” he said, “Thank you. Thank you so much...”

 

It was then that Ben felt it, the Millennium Falcon going through the sky, and he already felt a mix of relief and, strangely enough, hurt. Had Dad really thought that he wasn't that important? That he was unimportant enough to show up –

 

No, of course not. He wouldn't really think that, would he? It's probably just a misunderstanding...

 

The Falcon touched down, and Ben couldn’t help but feel a touch of anger in between his relief. Finally, Dad was here, but what had taken him so long? What had kept him? He supposed he should be glad that Dad was even here at all, but it didn’t stop the pang of resentment in him.

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Han said, even as he stepped out of the Falcon, Chewie at his side. He looked almost as if he had gotten back from a rough job, because of course he was out doing a rough job, Ben thought bitterly, that was what he always did, it wasn’t as if his father --

 

No. It wasn’t like that at all, was it?

 

Stang, are Mom and I just that unimportant to you?

 

It shouldn’t be a big deal. And yet Ben couldn’t stop the writhing snakes of indignance and confusion that seemed to have taken up residence in his insides.

 

“Hey, Dad,” he said, and he was aware of how colorless it sounded. “Smuggling job?”

 

“Yeah. Should tell you more about it after.”

 

“Yeah.” Ben tried to ignore the unpleasant, painful twists in his stomach, the feelings of hurt and indignance that Dad could have shown up that late. It’s nothing personal, not really, is it? I mean, hyperspace routes aren't just quick zips from point A to point B. Sometimes they take a while...

 

Maybe it was nothing personal. Maybe. And besides, other people had it worse. Thomas probably didn't even have parents who showed up to his Knighting ceremony, and Riin’s parents were downright criminals. It didn't stop the twists of anger and humiliation and frustration and indignance in Ben’s stomach. Why do you have to leave so often? I don’t give a flying bantha’s ass, as you say, about how many credits you’re rolling in or how many races you’ve won, and neither does Mom! We just want you.

 

But he didn't say it out loud. In the Order, you didn't act on your anger or vocalize it. You kept it quiet. And considering some of the stuff that happened when you let it run as wild as Mom and Dad both did

 

sometimes he felt like that terrified boy hiding in a corner listening to his parents fight

 

it was probably a good thing that way.

 

Poe, on the other hand, had no such reservations.

 

“How could you miss out on your own son’s Knighting ceremony?” Poe said. “For kriff’s sake, Mr. Solo -- ’’

 

“Really, Poe, it’s okay.” It was best to keep his emotions quiet. The feelings of resentment and abandonment that needed to just be locked away in some internal box with the key thrown away. Dad couldn’t know. Uncle couldn't know. Anger was of the Dark Side; Ben couldn’t get angry. He had to keep it all quiet, keep it watered down.

 

Nobody could ever know.

 

***

 

By the time the Knighting ceremony was over, Han was already angry. Not with Ben – he doubted he ever could be, and besides, Ben hadn't done anything wrong – but with himself, and because anger at yourself could be hard to take sometimes, at Poe.

 

Damn that kid. Poe was a nice kid, of course, but he didn’t really get it, did he? He doesn’t know what it’s like. He hasn’t had to do half the stuff I had. He was lucky.

 

Then again, Poe also seemed to adore Ben in a way that wasn’t just friendship, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. Han wasn't Force Sensitive, but he knew something was going on when he saw it. He could remember when Ben was fourteen and Poe was seventeen, and the hugs they shared on occasion, and how Ben never seemed to shut up at times about how great Poe was, and things like that. Poe cared about Ben, and Han could admire that, and yet…

 

Who the hell was Poe to decide what kind of decisions he made?

 

And just to make it all worse, Luke walked up towards him, ceremonial robes and all, the sort of solemn look on his face that suggested that Han and he needed to have some sort of talk.

 

Luke sighed. “Han...can I talk to you about something?”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“You really upset Ben.” Oh, wonderful; Luke was going into one of his patented Self-Righteous Guilt Trips again. It was like years prior, when Luke was a brat of a teen who was somehow starting to grow on Han and Han just wanted to bail out so Jabba could get the money Han owed him. He didn't get it then, and though they were much older now, Han felt the same irritation he did back in that hangar on Yavin IV, the irritation where he knew, just plain knew that Luke had zero idea of what he was trying to do and even if he did, he was too caught up in his holier-than-thou bantha poodoo to care.

 

And unlike at nineteen, Luke already seemed to know his weakness here. Ben. Ben was pretty good, actually, at being his weakness. The moment he was born, he’d been Han’s weakness, the reason he was moving everywhere across the galaxy, taking whatever credits he could even though Luke was taking care of him now and hell, Ben was in his early twenties at most and didn't need to rely on Han anymore. Luke had found it, zeroed in on it, and it only made Han irrationally hate him more.

 

“I didn't mean it.”

 

“I know you didn't. I just think that you seem to care more about how many credits you earn than your own family.”

 

Why that little –

 

“Are you kidding me?” Han said. “I'm trying to make sure that they can live well.”

 

“You don't need to. Leia's a Senator, and Ben's a Jedi; he doesn't really need credits any more than Leia does. What you're doing is only harming them further.”

 

Han narrowed his eyes. “You’re not our family therapist, Luke, and if I wanted one, I’d damn well go to one!”

 

Luke’s eyes widened, clearly hurt by Han’s outburst, and Han took a deep breath. Shouldn't have done that. Really shouldn't have done that.

 

“I'm not trying to lecture you,” Luke said. “I'm trying to help you.”

 

“Got it. I'm sorry.” Han sighed. “You just have no idea, Luke. What it was like for me, growing up.”

 

“I have some idea, and I'm sorry.”

 

“No, you had a home, you had a place to go. I want to make sure Ben at least has that. I want to make sure...” That I'm good enough, was the unspoken end of the sentence. That I've earned their love for me, and that Ben never has to know any sort of pain or disappointment like I did.

 

Luke’s eyes became gentle then, kind. “Han...you don’t get it, do you? Leia, Ben...they don’t care about how many winnings you get.”

 

“I’m trying to make sure they can live well.”

 

“I know. But most of all, they want you. A father, a husband...just as you are. They don't care about the amounts of credits you have, how many races you win. Just you.”

 

Han sighed. He wished he could believe Luke on this one. Ben -- well, it was clear Ben adored him. Saw him as akin to a god (which, yeah, lots of kids saw their parents that way, but it was still a bit unsettling. Han had a feeling he wouldn't make a good god. “Perfect” was in Luke and Leia’s vocabularies, as was “divine”, but his? Not really. Looks-wise, yes, behavior-wise, no. Plus, he’d have a habit of smiting, say, Goldenrod, or Naris, which probably went against some sort of god code, probably “You can’t just beat the poodoo out of people who tick you off every time no matter how tempting it is”. Han Solo was good at many things, but controlling his temper wasn't one of them). Leia, though? They still loved each other, but things were as rocky as an asteroid field right now, from the stupid stuff that somehow managed to tick them off to the bigger stuff that called to mind the term “the bantha in the room”. “Hope you’re right on that one, kid.”

 

“They love you,” Luke said. “I know they love you.”

 

Silence. Then Han spoke, more solemnly, softer, the voice of a man who would do anything – yes, anything – for his family. After all, he wasn't Vader. He would never scare them or hurt them the way that Vader did, because he loved them too much to do that.

  
“I know.”


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight: Milara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get to visit Snoke's homeworld. It's not pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Milara was a planet that Snoke could not say that he expected to return to, but now that Master Skywalker had discovered exactly what the word Snoke meant, it seemed that they were going back home. If one could call it home. 

 

Ben seemed to notice his discomfort, for he said, “Are you all right?”

 

They stood in the antechamber of the Enclave. Around them, Mei was chastising Jimmy Nichos for Force pushing another Knight (it seemed in a way that the young man hadn’t grown up; he’d merely become an older version of the boy that Ben had had to deal with at age four. Fifteen years later, and he hadn’t grown up. It seemed that the thugs of the Academy never truly did), other Jedi were deep in conversation about Milara, and the whole affair seemed to be animated indeed. They seemed to think that they would find the Supreme Leader there, never mind that he had been in their midst all along. 

 

Normally, Snoke wouldn’t have gone through such a convoluted plan, even for him. But to find Ben...well, he couldn’t very well march into the Enclave with his Force signature blazing for all to feel. It would have caused Master Skywalker to kill him on sight without so much as listening to what he had to say. 

 

After all, Yoda had been too willing to give him those scars, and he hadn’t -- well, he had been on the Dark Side, but his victims had  _ deserved _ it, his victims  _ needed _ to die. They had  _ deserved  _ it, but Yoda hadn’t seen it. So Snoke had those scars. The scars on his knuckles told their stories of abuse. The scars on his face told the story of a betrayal of one who was like kin to him. 

 

“I can’t say,” Snoke said, “That I have fond memories of the planet.”

 

And that was an understatement. His suffering had begun when he was a small child and the war that had plagued Milara had taken his parents in a brutal manner. He had spent his time hiding in confined places, listening to enemy footsteps until the coast was clear, until he could move again. And then he had ended up at the orphanage.

 

That...the less Snoke remembered of  _ that  _ prison that he had once been forced to call “home”, the better. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Ben said. 

 

“There is no need. Milara...it is not what Alderaan was, or Naboo. I should make that clear enough. The war that tore apart this planet has been long over for years, but it still holds its dangers, Ben. Be careful.”

 

“I will. And besides,” Ben said, with the sort of cocky grin that brought to mind his father, “We’re together on this mission. What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

Despite himself, Snoke chuckled -- a genuine, non-bitter sort of chuckle. He wondered, absently, if this is what camaraderie felt like. He had not felt it in some time. Not since --

 

_ No.  _ He  _ matters not. He was a long time ago. _

 

“I do wish,” Snoke said, “I had your optimism, Ben.”

  
  


***

Milara itself seemed almost like a graveyard of a planet. Ben stepped down on it, grateful that he had the breathing mask in place just in order to not get the fumes in his lungs. The Milarans had used just about every weapon in the holobook on each other, and so they had laid waste to what must have been, Ben thought, a lush green paradise, judging from what used to be grass, what used to be a tree. He looked towards Yana, and images suddenly flashed in his mind --

 

\--  _ a man’s voice. “Small one, flee. We’ll hold them off, I promise. Get to the others, find them if you can, and  _ be careful.” --

 

\--  _ the trees like burning brands, the violent winds of the storm tossing fire upon the wind -- _

 

_ \-- “If you so much as squeak, you little brat -- ’’ -- _

 

Ben walked towards Yana just then. “Master Yana -- was all of that -- ’’

 

“It was me, Ben.” Yana’s voice was quiet, as if he wished for no one but Ben to hear this. “All of this.”

 

Ben put a hand on his arm. “It wasn’t fair,” he said. “Or right. It really wasn’t.” 

 

“No, Ben. But I survived it. That is what matters.”

 

Ben smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re a survivor. A fighter. And one of the bravest beings I’ve known.”

 

Yana actually looked surprised for a moment. Then, “Thank you, Ben.”

 

The search on Milara otherwise seemed to not yield many results. It was coming up to a building that seemed to radiate with the Dark Side that Ben had a sudden, sinking feeling that perhaps they had come close. Perhaps. Perhaps...

 

But what were they coming close to? 

 

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Mike said. 

 

Ben nodded. He couldn’t say he blamed Mike. Even as they approached, he could swear he heard voices from deep inside. 

 

_ You know what I’ve come for.  _ A voice, muffled, ominous, sounding almost as if it came from the shadows. 

 

_ You won’t have Jaina.  _ Aunt Alora’s voice.  _ You won’t have her.  _

 

A howl of agony. Ben’s own. 

 

_ The weapon.  _ A haughty, icy sort of voice.  _ It is ready.  _

 

It was in front of the door that they ran into problems. 

 

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Mike said. “It’s like I’m stuck...”

 

“Me too.” Annie ran towards the door, only for some invisible force to stop her, as if she was stuck, sinking in something. 

 

Ben had already headed inside when he heard their voices. He ran towards the back doors, only for them to effectively slam in his face, cutting him off from his friends as well as what lay outside. 

 


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine: Vision of the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben gets a glimpse of what he'll become. It's not pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Trying for the doors behind him seemed to have little effect. For all intents and purposes, Ben knew, he was trapped here. He couldn’t believe how foolish he had been, just to walk into something like this, as if there would be nothing bad happening? He could remember the horror holos he’d watched with Annie and Thomas and Michael, and how when the protagonists were stupid enough to investigate a strange noise, he had scoffed at that.  _ What a moron! I’d never, ever do that... _

 

It seemed some things were easier said than done. 

 

But there was no time to mope about it. It seemed that the only way to go now was forward. Forward, forward, forward, until you found the way out, and even then, Ben couldn’t say that he liked it in the slightest. There was something about it that felt cramped, too small, too vulnerable, even as he continued through. The light streamed down from the roof, pale purple, casting bruise-like shadows on the floor ahead of him, on the hallways ahead of him. 

 

Ben kept his lightsaber at the ready all the while. There was no telling who could be in there, honestly. There was no telling  _ what  _ could be in there. Strange creatures like shyracks, or rathtars, or tu’kata, or even phantoms...

 

It seemed that when you were in almost complete darkness, your mind seemed to find it a good time to start playing tricks on you.  _ Wouldn’t it be great if there were something behind you right now?  _ a voice in Ben’s mind said.  _ Wouldn't it be great if you were being followed by a pack of tu’kata or something... _

 

Only the Force provided enough grounding for Ben to know for a fact that there was nothing behind him. That was a plus, at least. 

 

It was ahead, from the shadows that Ben could hear some heavy breathing, breathing that he knew too well, from nightmares. And then the figure materialized from the shadows, black-suited, menacing, all but ready to spring upon him. 

 

It was Vader. The same shade that had haunted his nightmares when he was a boy. Breathing heavily all the while, lightsaber raised -- and Ben was suddenly very afraid. 

 

No. He could not afford to be afraid. Even though fear had all but frozen him even as the figure headed towards him. Even though his breath hitched with fear. 

 

Ben ignited his lightsaber. The two blades clashed, blue against red, red against blue, and they lit up the cave in flashes of color. He would do what he could to beat this Dark Side spirit, he really would. He truly would. 

 

The matter of driving Vader back seemed almost like an impossibility, as everything Vader did seemed designed to drive Ben back. Even though Ben knew that realistically, Vader was a Dark Side spirit, the lightsaber pushing against his seemed too real, driving him against the wall. Ben lashed out, trying to drive Vader off him, trying to drive the horrible feeling of Vader’s horrifically heavy breathing away from his neck, away from his face --

 

Ben’s lightsaber touched Vader’s shoulder at the same time Vader’s lightsaber touched his. 

 

The lightsaber burned through his clothes and into his shoulder, and Ben cried out in pain, falling to the floor of the cave even as the pain overtook him. It wasn’t just the burning -- even though, honestly, it wasn’t even a corporeal lightsaber -- but the horrible feeling as if the Dark Side was now running through him. 

 

Ben got to his feet, punching his right shoulder.  _ Goddamn you. Stupid, stupid boy. Should have been strong enough. Weak boy, stupid boy, should have been quick enough.  _

 

The cave ahead was quiet now without the specter of Vader in it. Unsettlingly quiet, actually. But Ben could still feel the taint running through him, throbbing in his shoulder like a wound that hadn’t been treated. 

 

It didn't matter. He had to go forward. Simply had to. Needed to. 

 

Up ahead were the sounds of voices. A filtered voice, female. “ _ Sir. The villagers. _ ”

 

And a male voice, muffled and menacing. “ _ Kill them all. _ ”

 

“ _ On my command,”  _ said the woman, “ _ Fire. _ ”

 

“Stop it!” 

 

Ben practically sprinted towards the scene in that moment, towards the smell of smoke that seemed too real. The village up ahead, in flames, and he saw stormtroopers 

 

_ somehow, Ben thought, they had recruited stormtroopers all over again. Somehow _

 

firing on civilians. 

 

“Stop it!” Ben’s voice barely seemed to carry over the cacophony that was the scene. “It’s wrong; stop it!”

 

The hooded, masked, Revan-like figure turned to look at Ben. Then, to the chrome stormtrooper, “Shoot him.”

 

Ben raised his lightsaber. The chrome storm trooper fired at him, and he barely managed to deflect her bolts in time. They flew back at her, but barely managed to dent her armor. 

 

She took a grenade from her pocket. Ben dodged in time, covering his ears even as it went off around him -- it seemed too real, actually, that sound, that awful sound of the grenade going off --

 

He got back up, and, just in time as she threw another grenade at him, he froze it. 

 

The chrome stormtrooper stared at him in what Ben could only assume was calm curiosity. Then she began shooting again, Ben deflecting every bolt, letting it bounce back onto the other phantoms. The chrome stormtrooper took out a vibroblade and began slashing at Ben. 

 

Ben barely managed to deflect the blade, until his own cut through her arm. 

 

The chrome stormtrooper vanished. 

 

Now the masked figure was the only one there. He ignited his lightsaber, spun it, and there was something about it that reminded Ben almost of something he’d do. He didn’t know if the masked figure was doing it to taunt him, what exactly the masked figure was trying to do, actually. 

 

The duel didn’t help, for that matter. This figure -- it was as if every move Ben made was like looking in a mirror. Practicing in a mirror, for that matter. Every move he made, this figure seemed to deflect all but flawlessly. 

 

“I’m disappointed in you, Solo,” said the masked figure. “Your masters must despise you as much as I do if they saw you failing in such a way.”

 

“I’m a slow learner.”

 

“Yes,” said the masked figure, “I know.”

 

They continued to duel, and lightsaber clashed against lightsaber. Red against blue, blue against red, and Ben was already wondering how, exactly, one fought an enemy who seemed to know their every move.

 

He swung. 

 

His blade connected with the masked figure’s head. 

 

The head rolled away. 

 

For a moment, Ben could swear that his face flashed under the mask, and he stepped away, feeling like he’d been stabbed in the gut. It couldn’t be. It was some sort of sick joke by the cave -- or a could be. It couldn’t be set in stone, could it? This couldn't be it. He couldn’t possibly become this monstrous, murdering --

 

_ It’s okay. It’s okay. There is no emotion, there is peace.  _ But at the moment, Ben doubted he could feel peace. What if it wasn't a sick joke, but a --

 

_ No. No, I’d never kill civilians. They were all so scared, weren’t they; I would never do that to them.  _

 

_ I just  _ couldn’t. 

 

The opening was near. Ben stepped towards it, and he could swear that his legs could have turned to batter. 

 

The sunlight was the most welcome thing that Ben could ever see in that moment and yet, stepping out into it, Ben knew, somewhere deep in a place he could not even acknowledge to himself, that he would never be the same again. 


	31. Chapter 30: Escape Route

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Haranka returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Tonight was the night. Haranka could feel it deep inside his bones. Even as the prisoners muttered in the cells next to him, even as the guards held their trivial conversations, he knew that something truly extraordinary was coming this way.

 

And it arrived in the form of two figures who were strangely dressed -- the most Haranka could describe them was that one wore a golden, Mandalorian-esque mask, one wore full bounty hunter armor combined with a long robe.

 

“You’ve come to see me?” Haranka said. “I did not think I’d have visitors.”

 

“The Supreme Leader sent us,” said the man in the golden mask -- his voice sounded like crackling fires, spreading through forests. “Come now, Haranka. We have places to go.”

 

And Haranka knew, exactly, what he had to do. Their work was not done yet. The Supreme Leader still needed them.

 

The only issue was the matter of the guards, but even that was easy. They shot at them, but they were warded off so easily by Lisaris’ lightsaber, deflecting the blows with grace and skill. The way he fought, Haranka thought, he was a man who had done battle before, in more desperate situations than this. The same, for that matter, as Narudar -- it seemed his joy for the battle ripped through the room along with the blaster bolts he fired off.

 

Battle was the purest form of expression. Words could express emotions but they were merely words -- they could trick, either consciously or no. It was battle where the guards were free to show their true emotions, battle where the guards were free to show their true nature.

 

And in that moment, Haranka knew that they were useless. Cowards. Disgusting and unworthy. They did not deserve to live. Even looking over their bodies, he knew that much.

 

With Lisaris and the Mandalorian, Haranka stalked coldly over their bodies and towards the hangar bay, and he never looked back.

 

***

 

Even arriving on the scene was a bloodbath, and it didn’t take a Force sensitive to understand what had just happened. Sarik, still groggy, could only look around at the bodies of the guards, and realized with a jolt that quite a few of them looked as if they had been cloven open with a lightsaber.

 

“Oh dear stars,” one of the CSF officers said. “Dear stars. Their chests -- ’’

 

“I know,” Sarik said.

 

“You don’t think one of the Jedi -- ’’

 

“No.” Sarik said. “I think he’s got an ally. Probably a Sith.”

 

“The Sith have been dead since Endor, right?”

 

“Yeah.” Of course, from what Sarik had heard, just like gizka, they always came back. Except at least gizka were cute. Sith...not so much. “Still...either way, someone with a lightsaber’s involved in this. And I’m going to figure out who.”


	32. Chapter 31: Lisaris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lisaris and Ben meet for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“You think that Haranka’s going to be here?” Poe said.

 

They were on the strange space station that was, indeed, called Starkiller Station. It was the sort of station that, name aside, really did give Ben a strange, creepy feeling just being on it. “I have a bad feeling about this” was cliche, of course, but here, Ben knew that there was something about the station that already made him feel as if something ominous was lurking there, something they wouldn’t want to uncover.

 

“It’s our best bet,” Ben said. “I mean, I reached through the Force, I sensed something...he has to be here.”

 

There was also the promise of finding Snoke, whoever he was, and ending the war. Even that thought was too wonderful to even think about -- the war ending, Snoke being captured and brought to trial, everything turning out all right. Even the letters that he heard from Poe over the course of the war broke his heart. Just the people that Poe ended up killing, just for starters.

 

“I don’t know,” Poe said. “I just have a feeling that this is going to end badly.” He kept his hand on his blaster. “Best we come prepared, huh?”

 

Ben nodded.

 

It was walking further in that Ben sensed a presence -- but it wasn’t Haranka. It was a different presence, pure heat, similar to the presence he had felt as a child, when he had been afraid and needed solace from his parents’ arguments and his father’s frequent departures, but where that presence had been warm

 

_if almost too warm, actually_

 

this presence felt too much like Jakku, and stumbling for water. It was like being back five years and being alone on Jakku.

 

“Ben?” Annie’s voice. “You feel it too?”

 

“Yeah.” Was it familiar? Even the idea that his old friend could somehow be involved in the slaving business was enough to make Ben terrified to find out. He almost didn’t want to round that corner. He almost didn’t want to find out the identity of whoever was behind that corner.

 

But he was a Jedi and so, he had to.

 

He rounded the corner, and the presence got hotter, all but assaulting him with waves of pure heat. There was a voice in his mind that sounded not deep and resonant but mellow, almost ordinary in nature. _These are the Jedi who have come to face me? Their pilot too? Not very impressive..._

 

Ben would show that man impressive, at any rate. At least it wasn't his old childhood friend. The voice in his mind was too _ordinary_ to be that.

 

And in front of him, a glimmer of gold at first, was a man in a gold mask and dark robes.

 

Ben could have sworn that he’d seen the man in the golden mask before. In a dream, in a nightmare. He could still remember how, exactly, this came out. A man in a gold mask with a long flowing cape. The long, elegant red lightsaber. He seemed almost like something from a nightmare.

 

“Hello, Ben Solo.” Even his voice sounded strange, like the vocoder in his mask was damaged. “So you’re the one that the Supreme Leader’s talked so much about.”

 

“Has he?”

 

“A great deal, actually. He speaks...quite highly of you.” The man in the gold mask raised his lightsaber. “Why don’t we put that to the test?”

 

Ben drew his lightsaber and ignited it.

 

Their lightsabers clashed, and Ben was struck in that moment just by how outclassed he was. He wasn’t exactly what you called terrible at lightsaber combat, but in comparison to this man, he was practically an amateur. There was a certain style to him -- Makashi, Ben knew, from his lessons. In contrast, Ben’s own style seemed to be woefully underdeveloped.

 

The man in the gold mask sounded scornful as he spoke. “If this is the best that the Supreme Leader thinks can lead us, then I daresay he’s lowered his standards.”

 

“I would never lead you.” And at the same time, anger roared in Ben’s ears. _I’ll show you lowered standards. By the Force, I’ll show you._

 

Their lightsabers continued to clash, Ben’s saber pressing against the strange figure’s red one, and they pressed into one another, relentless, ruthless, as around them, chaos reigned in the form of lightsabers against vibroblades, blasters against blasters.

 

_Blasters._

 

_Makashi is vulnerable to blasters, isn’t it?_

 

Ben turned to look at Poe, nodded. Poe fired off a whole round of shots towards the man in the gold mask and it took a change in form entirely in order to fend off the bolts. The man in the gold mask hissed as another bolt hit him in the shoulder, yanked it out, pounded against the wound.

 

“You’re resourceful, I’ll grant you that,” said the man in the gold mask. “But that won’t be enough to save you, I’m afraid. You have hate, you have anger, and yet you’re scared to use them, aren’t you?”

 

_As I should be._

 

They continued clashing, Ben’s lightsaber ruthless against the other’s, straining to catch the lightsaber before it could get to him. Sparks rose between the sabers, and sizzling heat hissed before Ben’s face along with the smell of his robes starting to char.

 

The pain of the lightsaber blade burning against his arm was enough to make Ben’s vision go white, the image of the gold mask looming above him even as he lapsed into unconsciousness.


	33. Chapter 32: Creatures In Masks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lisaris decides to be a sadist towards Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: There's one line in Lisaris' duel with Ben (his response to Ben calling him "sick") that was kind of inspired by Saw. (Jigsaw's "Yes, I'm sick, officer" speech. Which is an amazing scene) Also, "Tyers" is a nod to one of the Legends writers; I admit I got stumped for names.

The fog of unconsciousness cleared away, and Ben knew where he was. Or at least, he had a good idea of where he was. He knew that he was strapped to a chair, and no matter how he tried, he couldn’t reach the Force.

“You can try and escape,” said Lisaris’ voice, “But you’ll hardly succeed. Those are Force-suppressing cuffs. They are fundamentally unnecessary, but the guards insisted on them.”

Ben turned to look at the gold mask that seemed to be looming down at him, looking over him. His arm still throbbed from the lightsaber wound that he’d taken to it.

“Where are the others?” he said. “What have you done to them?”

“They’re secured,” said Lisaris. “For their safety.”

But Ben could already hear the screams. The screams, the mutters of the other prisoners, begging for some sort of leniency, for mercy, that they weren’t yet to get. Annie’s voice. “Please, don’t hurt them, they didn’t do anything to you.” Thomas’ mutterings. “There is no death, there is the Force...”

Murmurs that seemed to come together in a whole mess, a whole cluster.

“What are you doing to them, you utter bastard?”

Lisaris seemed thoughtful. “I just have to wonder, what would you do in order to keep your friends safe? How far would you go? You’ve killed before, after all, just to keep a stranger safe. How far would you go now?”

Ben swallowed. It seemed like Haranka, Lisaris seemed to know him better than he knew himself. “I regret killing.”

“Do you now? Fascinating. The Jedi who regrets.” Lisaris’ eyes focused on him in a way that could only be described as pure cold, almost detachment, as if he found the whole thing fascinating. As fascinating as a scientific experiment perhaps, Ben thought. “You have so much hate and anger and fear in that body. But you repress it. You are afraid that you’ll never be strong enough.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“The way it screams out of you in the Force, it’s very much my business.”

Ben looked up at Lisaris and, already, he felt a chill go down his spine.

Down the hall, he heard Poe scream -- a sort of scream that he didn’t think could possibly come out of Poe, but it did. And his chest clenched. He wished there was some way to comfort Poe, to tell him it would all be all right, all of it, even though there was no chance of it being all right. His hands twisted and clenched in his lap and he knew that getting hurt yourself was one thing. It was others getting hurt that had a special sort of pain involved.

He didn’t think Poe was capable of making those screams.

“Poe.” Ben’s voice was soft in dismay. Just the amount of pain that Poe was in, the screams coming out of him...how he wished he could break free of the restraints on him and run to Poe, and yet even straining through the Force --

He couldn’t feel it. It was almost as if it were completely blocked off from him.

“You can hear him suffering, can’t you?” Lisaris said. “It would be so easy, wouldn’t it, if you just gave in.”

A wave of his hand, and the cuffs snapped open. Ben rubbed at his wrists, dazed suddenly at what Lisaris was trying to do.

“Go ahead, Jedi. Consider it a gift. Strike me down with all you have and you can have everything you ever wanted.”

Poe’s screams continued to echo down the hall. Ben turned to look towards Lisaris, hating himself for not acting -- hating himself for suddenly, at the crucial moment, feeling old voices start to come back. Jimmy Nichos. Master Naris. His mother’s fear.

_what if he becomes like his grandfather what if what if that presence in his room what if what if what if what if_

Ben reached out in the Force and summoned his lightsaber to him. And Lisaris looked at him.

“What are you waiting for, Jedi? Do it.”

Ben ran.

He practically flew down the hallway, towards Poe, fighting off every guard in his way, feeling his franticness wash over him.

_By the Force, I won’t let them hurt you._

_By the Force..._

Lisaris was on his tail. Even as Ben ran towards the chamber where Poe was, he knew that Lisaris was just behind. The guard who had beaten Poe earlier

Ben knew; the guard’s fists had blood on them

stood in alarm even as Ben entered, raising his blaster and shooting, but Ben batted away the bolts. The guard drew his vibroblade and succeeded at slashing Ben down the arm before Ben raised his lightsaber and slashed off his hand.

The guard looked up at him, wide eyed, before grabbing his vibroblade with the other hand. Vibroblade and lightsaber clashed in a shower of sparks, and finally, Ben slashed him diagonally down the chest.

The guard fell to the ground. Breathing heavily, Ben ran towards Poe, waved his hand and the cuffs came off easily. Poe rubbed his wrists, clearly dazed, and grinned up at Ben, and Ben’s heart broke just seeing his bruised face and split lip. They’d beaten Poe, they’d hurt him, and Ben hadn’t been there to help him, to save him.

“Ben...” Poe’s voice came out in a rasp. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

He placed his hands on Poe’s upper arms, and already, he was gentle with the shorter man, drawing him in closer but not outright crushing him.

“They hurt you.”

“I got banged up, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Don’t worry, Ben.”

Ben raised his hand, and he was aware of how near it was to Poe’s face, how it seemed to be akin to a caress against it.

Poe seemed to sense it too, because his breath hitched. Ben looked at him. “It’s just going to be to heal your wounds,” he said. “What those monsters did to you.”

“Right.”

Ben poured his Force energy, poured the Light, into Poe and let his wounds stitch up, let the bruises and the split lip heal up. Poe winced, but in time, his lip had healed up, as had the bruises on his face. There was a broken rib as well, but just as he was about to heal that

_though it seemed so intimate, though it seemed so close_

Lisaris spoke.

“So you would kill for him, would you?”

Ben slung an arm protectively around Poe’s shoulder, Poe’s arm around his shoulder, even as they faced Lisaris.

“I chose a good subject,” said Lisaris. “You were too willing to kill for him, weren’t you? All these miles, just to find him. You would have done just about anything.”

“So that’s why?” Ben said. “You wanted to test me?”

“How far would you go in order to embrace the part of you the Jedi forced you to deny? That your own mother forced you to deny?”

“How do you know all this?”

“I know much about you,” said Lisaris. “I can sense it.” He paused in front of Ben. “You would kill so freely for him, wouldn't you? So willingly. With the range of your emotions, you would lay waste to us so easily.”

Ben could sense something else even as he spoke. A boy, skinny, shivering, hiding in alleyways from strange shadows that Ben couldn’t make out but looked very much like people. And he knew that it was Lisaris.

“You didn’t start out as a monster, did you?” he said. “You became one.”

“One being’s monster is another’s survivor, Jedi. If not for the Supreme Leader, I would not have survived. He is truly remarkable, the Supreme Leader.” Lisaris sounded admiring even as he spoke. “A marvel, in fact. What Jedi would call a monster we call a leader and a teacher.”

“Do I get to meet him?”

“In his own good time.”

Thomas’ scream echoed down the hall, and Ben turned towards Lisaris. “Let him go,” he said.

“Would you kill me in order to save him?”

“If I have to,” Ben said.

“You are no Jedi. You pretend to be, yet you’re consumed by anger and hate. Among us, you would never have to worry about such things any longer. Join us, Ben.”

“Go rot in the Corellian hells.”

Ben drew his lightsaber just then and Poe drew his blaster. Ben’s blade clashed against Lisaris’, Lisaris’ blade seeming to give way too easily under his now. Anger did that. Lisaris fought, fending off every blow --

\-- only for Ben’s lightsaber to go through his hand.

As Lisaris’ lightsaber rolled away, Lisaris looked up at him. It was hard to read the look behind that mask, but just from the voice, it was clear that Lisaris was taunting him. “Kill me. You’re no better than the rest of us, Jedi. Kill me.”

Ben’s lightsaber shook in his hand, and he wanted to, it was already so tempting --

\-- but he deactivated his lightsaber, offered a hand towards Lisaris. “On your feet,” he said.

Lisaris stood, only for his lightsaber to fly into his other hand as he lunged at Ben. Their lightsabers clashed, and they sizzled against the other, the other intent in pushing the other back.

It took whatever Ben could to stand his ground.

Lightsabers continued to clash. It seemed that even with a hand missing, Lisaris was far from a slouch. “You have such power in you, Solo,” he said, “Such potential. And the Jedi squander it just with your very presence among them. You need a leader. A teacher. The Supreme Leader could be that teacher, if you let him.”

“I would never fall to the Dark Side.”

“Dark Side?” Lisaris laughed -- it sounded like crackling flames. Like static. “That’s what they call it, the Dark Side? It is freedom. Liberation. It is stability for the galaxy that it was long denied.”

“How?” Another clash. “How would it bring stability?”

“Aren’t you frustrated with the Republic and what it’s wrought? Aren’t you frustrated with what it’s done -- or rather, what it’s failed to do?”

Ben wouldn't deny that. Somehow, what Lisaris was saying was making too much sense. And the shivering boy he saw in Lisaris’ mind...

“You knew it full well, didn’t you?”

“Too well.” Lisaris sounded bitter now, weary. “It certainly wasn’t the Republic who saved me. The Supreme Leader did. He gave me a home.”

“He saved you?” What kind of being endorsed slavery one moment, saved a boy on the streets the next? What peculiar being --

“All of us. You can be saved by him too -- all you need to do is leave the Order.”

“I can’t join the Dark Side.”

“What happens if you do, beyond the horror stories the Jedi have told you? The Jedi, who have only known having three meals a day and having comfortable Temples to sleep in and views of Coruscant from their ivory towers. Beyond their lies?”

_I fail._

_More than that, I become a monster. A killer._

“I can’t kill innocents.”

“And you think that anyone that we’ve killed is innocent?”

Ben could only stare at him in astonishment. How could he think that, to name some, Narudar’s victims had deserved what they got? “What about what Narudar did?”

“I daresay he’s taking back the destiny the hut’uun traitor Satine Kryze stole from them. And good for him.”

“No one deserved what they got. No one. How sick do you have to be to -- ’’

“Well, Ben, what if I suggested one day you would see the truth of our ways? Perhaps now?”

Ben already felt acid start to climb his throat. “You’re sick,” he said. “In every conceivable way.”

“If you mean sick of the Republic, yes, Ben. Sick of its corruption, the way it scoffs at those deemed to be beneath it. If you mean that, then yes, Ben, I am sick. Is it any wonder?”

Footsteps. And Ben knew that Sarik and the others were here.

“Put your kriffing hands in the air.”

“If I may say so,” Lisaris said, “The Solo Jedi cut off one of mine. I don’t think your request in this situation is particularly possible.”

Sarik sighed, and Ben could feel his exasperation. Great, came the thought. First a psychopath and now a future prisoner who thinks he’s a comedian. I miss the first days of my job sometimes. “Fine,” he said. “Put your hand in the air, you sonuvaSith.”

Lisaris did so. The handcuff they attached to him seemed so small, so pathetic, in comparison.

Sarik turned to one of his female officers. “Tyers,” he said, “Get him to the shuttle. You five, accompany Tyers. The rest of you, come with me.”

Tyers’ group went to the shuttle, all the while, Ben thought, all but radiating the fact that they’d rather be anywhere but transporting Lisaris.

Sarik turned to Ben. “Dameron, Solo,” he said, “You boys all right?”

“Never better,” Poe said wryly, then winced. Ben put an arm around him, trying to steady him.

It was down the hall that Ben felt Thomas’ presence waver, and start to tremble. He turned to look at Sarik. “Thomas,” he said. “We’ve got to get him. Quickly.”

Rescuing Annie was easy, snapping open the cuffs and embracing her quickly. She looked over at Ben. “We’ve got to help him,” she said, “Thomas. He’s dying.”

“I know.”

They headed into the next room, and Ben’s heart sank looking over at Thomas’ body. Someone had hurt him, bloodied him so badly that it would be a miracle that he didn’t look worse. Ben didn’t walk but ran to him, collapsing by his side, fumbling frantically through his supplies, throwing out sabaac cards that Dad had given him at fourteen to teach him how to play the game, all sorts of old supplies before finally getting to the life support packs, but even those packs wouldn’t be enough to cover the bleeding.

Thomas smiled blearily up at him. “Hey, Ben.”

“Thomas, don’t talk. You’re losing a lot of blood.”

“The others...got to get the others...trapped here...”

“Help’s on the way, kid.” Sarik’s voice. “We’re arresting the bastards. Just stay still.”

“There is no death...there is the Force...”

Thomas’ eyes went wide and glassy, staring off into space, into a netherworld of the Force that no one else could see.


	34. Chapter 33: Forest Chats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben copes with the loss of Thomas and his guilt over it, Poe copes with what he's been through, and the two of them talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Part of this chapter was actually written last night when I couldn't get to sleep. (I haven't been sleeping well)

They managed to get the others out, of course, and thanks to Ben’s testimony, as well as Poe’s and Annie’s, they managed to get Lisaris put away. Haranka was still missing, but Sarik and the others were on the hunt for him.

 

Which, thank the Force for that.

 

All the while, they had the funeral for Thomas. Even the usual recitations of the Code at the funeral, however, were barely a comfort, as Ben was reminded of how he had failed Thomas, how he hadn’t been quick enough.

 

He never had been good enough. Never had been powerful enough. And even the knowledge that he wasn’t perfect was hardly a comfort. He should have been. Perfect enough to stop Lisaris, save Thomas, shield Poe and Annie from every blow that their monstrous captors gave them.

 

And he hadn’t been strong enough. He never had. He had been foolish, weak. He had been far from perfect, so far from it that he might as well have been on a different plane altogether. A plane of failure.

 

It still bothered Ben, in his waking hours, in his nightmares. He could have been strong enough, he could have been good enough.

 

And in the end, he simply wasn’t, and others had paid for it.

 

***

 

Recovery from the matter of broken ribs was one thing, and Poe had to stay on Yavin just until they healed up, as well as the other stuff that had been inflicted on him, but the emotional stuff was different. Just being in that room, that dark, confined room, knowing you were just there to be tortured for someone else’s test...that was a different matter entirely.

 

Poe still had trouble sleeping. Not only in terms of having to switch positions to accommodate his broken ribs, but also the nightmares that still left him waking up in a cold sweat trying not to scream. He swore he still saw the faces of those people who had tortured him. One of them was a family member of an enemy pilot he had killed on a mission.

 

And that...

 

That hurt to even think about. To think that he had torn a family apart, in a way...

 

Poe didn’t think about that stuff usually in the air. Not when what mattered was on your right, on your left -- he was grateful that Ben was too busy with Jedi duty to fly. He couldn’t imagine Ben handling the aftereffects, the killings he had done. At least Ben killed those who were going for him first.

 

At least...

 

Poe sighed, put on the holoscreen and tried, vainly, to get to sleep.

 

***

 

Poe’s scars healed. Ben knew that much from what he was able to hear from him. Even that was a relief. It didn’t mean that the mental ones did. As far as he knew from writing to Poe, there were still nightmares. Too many of them, usually about not being able to reach Ben, Annie or Thomas.

 

Ben knew that he had similar nightmares. Nightmares about not being able to reach Thomas, not being able to reach Poe, of having to choose between Thomas and Poe in terms of who he would be able to save. There was nothing about that, Ben knew, that was foretelling the future, he knew that much. It was just another way of proving how deeply he had failed in what he had set out to do.

 

Thomas was dead.

 

It was his fault.

 

They said to let grief go into the Force, to rejoice for those who disappeared into the Force. Don’t mourn them, they said. Don’t miss them. Attachment is the shadow of greed. But how could they even say that when the death in question was Ben’s fault, Ben’s fault, Ben’s fault?

 

Because Ben hadn’t been quick enough. Ben hadn’t been fast enough. Ben had been so held up with Lisaris

 

_and he was arrested now, and Ben swore that he would never, ever forgive him for what he had done_

 

that he hadn’t been fast enough. He hadn’t been good enough.

 

So he practiced. Occasionally said practice took the form of taking things out on the training dummies and all but slashing up the room. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, not truly. Ben practiced, even when his muscles got sore, even when he got burns from the training modules. And he did not sleep.

 

Sleep usually brought the nightmares.

 

It was long after a training session against one of the modules -- the Niman form, this time -- that Ben already felt the beginning of sleep start to come over him. But he couldn’t afford to sleep. He couldn’t. Sleep would just bring the nightmares, and that he couldn’t allow.

 

But he was so tired, and his body couldn’t hold out for much longer.

 

It was back at his room, after he had another nightmare, this time about a living shadow devouring everything in its path, that Ben woke, clutching the blankets to his chest, gasping for breath. The living shadow...it had felt so familiar as well. Pure heat, pure --

 

But Lisaris was also radiating pure heat, wasn’t he? So it could have been Lisaris. And yet...Lisaris’ mental voice had sounded so ordinary, so very normal. Nothing like the low rumble that Ben associated with his childhood imaginary friend.

 

And imaginary friends...weren’t they just imaginary?

 

_You’re twenty years old and you’re still going over that, still, Ben?_

 

He sighed before taking out his datapad and typing a message to Poe. _I need to see you. I’m sorry. I need to see you._

 

Silence. Then his datapad beeped. A message from Poe. _So do I._

 

Minutes later, still in his pajamas, Ben headed out towards Yavin. Poe was still in his pajamas as well, and he looked so tired, so disheveled, so vulnerable. Ben could only look over him, wishing there was something he could do, anything to comfort Poe. And it made him hate Lisaris even more for what he had done. _Poe isn’t some sort of test --_

 

They sat out in the forest on Yavin next to one another, and Ben was too aware of how Poe seemed to be still bruised up from where those

 

_monsters_

 

captors had beaten him. To think that he had taken all of this...Ben almost wished that he had taken those blows instead, as opposed to Poe.

 

Poe hadn’t deserved any of this.

 

“I got your message. Are you doing all right?” Poe’s voice was soft, gentle.

 

“Not really. Nightmares.”

 

Poe’s eyes were focused on his arms, where he had burns from the training modules. Then, “You’ve got a lot of them.”

 

“You should see the other guy.”

 

“Ben, really,” Poe said. “That’s not funny. What are you doing?”

 

“Practicing.”

 

“Practicing shouldn’t hurt.”

 

“I got burns before,” Ben said. “The practice lightsabers. I wrote you about them, remember?”

 

Poe nodded. It was clear that it didn’t really make it better.

 

“Are you doing okay?” Ben just hoped there was a way to keep the conversation from devolving into a full scale argument.

 

“I am. As okay as I can be.” Poe winced, and Ben placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

“You’re hurt -- ’’

 

“Yeah. Bastard got me in the ribs. They say the bruise is gonna take a while to heal.”

 

Ben’s chest clenched again. To think that all this pain had been going on for Poe and he had been unable to do anything about it...

 

“Poe...”

 

“I’ll live.” Poe sent him that sort of grin that Ben continued to love. That sort of confidence in it, that sort of faith...

 

“Poe...when you were being hurt...”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“There was a moment, just a moment, where I would have done...anything to stop them from hurting you. Even kill them.” Ben swallowed. “I know it sounds dark, but it’s the truth. I couldn't bear hearing them hurt you down the hall.”

 

“I couldn’t either.” Poe’s voice was gentle, earnest. And Ben knew exactly what Poe meant in that moment. Too well, actually. “That was the worst part. Not the beatings; physical pain’s one thing. But hearing what they did to Thomas and Annie, knowing that you were down the hall and not knowing what they were doing to you...I couldn’t bear it.”

 

“I know.” And the waves of his own failure, the knowledge that he had failed to save Thomas, the knowledge that Poe had been being tortured down the hall and Ben couldn't save him...

 

_If I’d been faster. If I’d been more skilled, faster..._

 

“Ben...” A hand along the small of his back, and Ben shivered, though not unpleasantly. He wondered, absently, if Poe knew what he was doing. So close to me. So very close...

 

“I wasn’t strong enough.” Poe’s touch was so gentle that Ben couldn’t help but blurt it out. “I wasn’t quick enough.”

 

“You were. You always were.”

 

Poe’s hands were on his arms, gentle, soft, and Ben noticed how elegant they were, how slim and small. They were pilot’s hands, small, perfect little pilot’s hands, gentle, tender hands, and his heart was already speeding up, his breath was hitching. Something about their proximity...

 

Poe’s lips were so soft, so pale, so full. Already, Ben wondered what it would be like kissing them, feeling them under his. He was already struck by this, being twenty years old and having never been kissed in his life, never having any other lover, never having anything like this.

 

Those weren’t thoughts you ordinarily had with grief, with guilt, and yet here he was.

 

“It’s not your fault, Ben. It really isn’t. It was Lisaris’. He was a...monster.” But judging from Poe’s thoughts, he obviously wanted to say something much stronger. “You did your best to save him. It’s not your fault.”

 

“Thank you.” That was all Ben could say. “Thank you.”

 

They were quiet again. Around them, the sounds of the night became louder. And Ben could hear Poe’s thoughts. Tell him. It's about time you told him, isn't it, Poe? Told him how you love him.

 

Thoughts that came out of Poe in practically a shout, a joyful, colorful sort of shout that startled Ben and yet was very Poe, such a contrast to his other thoughts that seemed so muted, so very dim from what Lisaris did -- and how Ben could have killed Lisaris for what he did to Poe. Among other things.

 

“Poe,” Ben said, “Is everything all right?”

 

“Yeah. I’m great.” All the while, that thought, colorful and vibrant and bright and truly Poe, popped up again. _Tell him, Poe. Tell him how you love him_. “Ben, I didn’t know how to tell you this, but in a galaxy where we’re fighting against Snoke and his men, I can’t picture you not at my side.”

 

“Neither can I.” _Tell me_ , Ben quietly encouraged, wondering if he could communicate all of this with his eyes. _Tell me the truth, Poe. Tell me you love me. Don’t be afraid._

 

Poe’s eyes were practically luminous in the light of Yavin. Ben was struck in that moment by how lovely they were, how wide, how beautiful, because Poe was beautiful, and he was kind, and he was funny and loving and so very, very perfect, and he was everything that was wonderful and --

 

They leaned in then, kissing, and Ben was surprised just at how soft Poe’s lips felt, how generous and gentle, barely a press against his own. Soft, feathery.

 

Ben kissed him back, and the kiss became more feeling, more passionate, lips seeming to all but plunder the other’s. Poe’s hands ran through his hair, and Ben knew he wouldn’t be surprised if it got tangled and messy from their kisses.

 

Eventually, after what seemed like a sweet, long moment, the kiss ended and Ben was in Poe’s arms, trying to catch his breath.

 

“So...wow.” Ben gasped, feeling as if his lips were tingling. He brought a hand up to them, touching them as if to feel the full impact of the kiss. How tender it had been before it had finally nearly stolen his air, how Poe’s hands had run through his hair, how tangled his hair was now. “That was...that was a real kiss.”

 

“You’ve never -- ’’

 

“I’ve never been kissed like this before.” It felt good, though. Loving, hungry, almost like something out of one of those holobooks that Mike pretended he didn’t collect. Ones that usually took place in gardens. Of course, this was a forest, not a garden, but some details you could let slip by. Here, with Poe, he could be happy here.

 

It was then it struck him. “The others...” Surely there were others Poe was no doubt interested in. How --

 

“They’re just friends, Ben. Believe me on this.” Poe’s hand rested on his cheek in that moment, and ran down it with the utmost tenderness. “They’re wonderful, but our relationship is as platonic as it gets.”

 

“I got it,” Ben said. “But why me?” Me, of all beings?

 

“Because you’re a good, kind, loving person, you’re fun to be with, you’re smart, you’re funny...and that’s just a few. I don’t just want to be your friend, Ben. I want to be with you.”

 

Ben swallowed. “You really do mean that, don’t you?”

 

“Of course I do. I love you.”

 

Those words. Those simple words. Enough to make the verbal floodgates open, enough to make Ben feel as if he were in the midst of melting. He loves me. Poe Dameron loves me.

 

And the rest poured out so freely.

 

“I know. And I...I love you too. You mean the galaxy to me. I was just wondering when you were going to say something, when you were going to tell me. I was wondering if I should tell you...”

 

He was aware, painfully, of how stupid he sounded in that moment, but he was practically liberated, rambling in that moment, words seeming to flow freely. When he spoke, at times, under periods of deep emotion, he might as well be telling his autobiography.

 

“Ben, I -- ’’

 

“Just let me finish. I love you. I just love you so much, and I want to protect you. I want to keep you safe, I want you to be happy, I never ever want you to know pain again.” His hands shook even as they rested on Poe’s shoulders, as they all but itched to hold him, to touch and caress him, and he knew he wouldn’t get enough. “I want to protect you. I want to fight alongside you, I want to shelter you from the nightmares you have, I want to shelter you from the war. I could give you everything of myself if you had me.”

 

“Always.”

 

They settled into the other’s embrace and here, in the forests of Yavin, they were safe here, where others could not reach them, could not hurt them. And Ben promised himself that no one would ever hurt Poe, not once, not ever again.


	35. Chapter 34: Imperfections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben's perfectionist streak starts to get worse, and Lisaris breaks out of jail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Lisaris was not in chains, but he felt as if he might as well be.

 

Even sitting behind the Force cage, he already felt too big for it, too confined for that matter, sitting with his legs crossed and his hands slightly out. He was always a big man, always had been a big man. Something that was a blessing and a curse.

 

He had not expected it to be a case of him being captured so soon, yet here he was. Here he was, captured and imprisoned, in a Force cage that seemed too small for him. Across the hallway, there were prisoners badly butchering the heavy isotope song “The Bantha Hop” (how exactly did you get that wrong? It took a certain talent, Lisaris would say that much), and it seemed to only emphasize how alone Lisaris really was.

 

Still, there was no use for self-pity. One couldn’t deactivate a Force cage from the inside, but they could find subtle ways to...complicate things for the guards.

 

Lisaris focused on one of the guards, a twitchy-looking young man who seemed to be nineteen at most. Were they really hiring their thugs this young nowadays? The last Lisaris had experienced, at least previous thugs of that sort had had years upon years of training. This...

 

This was pathetic.

 

“Hello,” he said.

 

The guard looked already nervous, but seemed resolute nonetheless in his looking away from Lisaris. Lisaris continued, keeping his voice calm and open. Without the mask -- which they had confiscated -- it was easier. The only true downside was seeing his face, not as the Supreme Leader’s apprentice, but a boy who had once been known as Daniel Fay. The mask was a symbol, and in times like these, symbols were of the utmost importance.

 

“Come here,” said Lisaris. “No need to be afraid.”

 

***

If one were to ask Ben Solo what exactly defined his young adult years, it was the matter of practicing.

 

He continued to be relentless in terms of pushing himself, in terms of testing himself. Poe managed to coax himself to take care of himself after being badly burned from a training session, however, and coax him to drink some water, to eat something, anything like that.

 

And whenever he could, he slipped out to see Poe.

 

There was always something safe, Ben thought, about Poe. There was something about just going to see him, just going to find him, that felt safe. And there was something about that safety that seemed to wrap him in pure warmth, in pure heat, that was comforting.

 

The matter of love seemed to be split across the Jedi Order. Uncle Luke was married, and yet there were even those in the Order, like Master Naris and Master Mei, who didn’t approve of that. You could use someone for their body and then toss them aside, but you couldn’t love them. Even thinking about that, what he had read about that, Ben couldn't imagine that.

 

He couldn't imagine not loving Poe.

 

So he slipped out to see him, frequently. So he slipped out to hold him, to nuzzle him, to kiss him, to smell Yavin in his hair and hear his voice, bright and sweet.

 

All between training to be better.

 

It was after one particular session that Ben walked out, badly battered, bruised, and with fresh burns on his shoulders that he had applied bacta to. The burns were still stinging, but at least they were healing up nicely. The worst part was the feeling of failure that Ben had. He had done well against stuff like Niman, but Ataru...Ataru had given him trouble, still?

 

Still wounded and sore, he limped towards Poe’s house and knocked on the front door. “Poe,” he said, “Are you there?”

 

The door opened and Poe practically skidded to a halt. Then, “Ben...are you all right?”

 

“Never better.”

 

“Ben, really,” Poe said. “Are you all right?”

 

“I am. Really.”

 

“You look like hell, Ben.”

 

Ben could already feel the weight of Poe’s worried gaze on him and he already felt a prickle of irritation. Did Poe think he was delicate? Did Poe think he was unable to handle himself? So he was sore and wounded and bruised and burned a little, it didn’t mean that he needed coddling. Coddling wasn’t going to help anything. Coddling wasn’t going to make Ben better at this, at all.

 

“I’m fine. I just got...banged up a little, that’s all.”

 

“You look like you’re going to fall over.”

 

“I’m fine!”

 

At the flash of concern that came across Poe’s face, Ben softened his voice. “I’m fine, Poe. I’m just...I’m very, very tired.” And that was an understatement.

 

“I can see that,” Poe said. “I mean...” He looked over Ben. “You look like you’ve been through a lot of strain, Ben. Just sit down.”

 

Ben did so.

 

“What are you doing?” he said.

 

“I’m trying to help you. Just...let me look at you. Your injuries...where are they?”

 

“They’re on my arms. I just...have to show you.”

 

Ben shrugged away his robes, letting them fall to the ground, letting them expose the tunic beneath before rolling up his sleeves. He could swear that he felt Poe’s eyes on him, momentarily longing before becoming softer.

 

“Those burns look painful.”

 

Ben sent him a quick grin. “You should see the other guy.”

 

“Did you put bacta on them?”

 

Ben nodded.

 

“All right. I’m just going to apply more, just in case. You should come inside.”

 

Ben did, picking up his robes and heading in. It was a cozy place, Ben thought, even if Poe had left some of his stuff lying around. Usually model X-wings and such. He’d gotten the place after he’d moved out.

 

Minutes later, after Poe had gotten the bacta, he began smearing it over Ben’s wounds. Ben hissed, hating the stinging pain as Poe did it, loving Poe’s touch.

 

“You okay?” Poe’s voice, gentle.

 

“Stings a little.”

 

“Sorry. How did you even get those burns?”

 

“The Ataru module.”

 

“How did you even -- ’’

 

“I’m just not good at it, Poe. I’m not good enough.”

 

“You don’t have to say that.” Poe said.

 

“It’s the truth.”

 

“It’s not.” Poe stood up. “I’m just going to get the bandages.”

 

Seconds later, Poe was carefully, tenderly applying them to Ben where the lightsaber in the training module had got him, and Ben sighed in relief. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you.”

 

“No problem. Just...don’t overstrain yourself like that, Ben. Really. You’ll just hurt yourself more. Besides, you’ve got to keep yourself running somehow.”

 

“I’ll try not to overstrain myself.” Ben rubbed his neck. He could already feel the tension in there, in his back, for that matter. “I think my whole body’s feeling it.”

 

“You’re worn out. You’re...” A hand rubbed his back. “You’re really tense, Ben. I can’t believe how tense you are. Let me help you.”

 

“I can feel it.” Ben groaned softly even as Poe’s thumbs began to caress the knots in his neck. “Poe...where did you learn to do that?”

 

“Dad used to do it for Mom. When she was stressed.”

 

Ben groaned even as the tension in his neck began to fade. “It...ah! It really works. It really does.” A sigh of relief even as Poe’s fingers -- those skilled little pilot’s fingers -- continued to move down his back, massaging the tension out of it.

 

“Are you all right?”

 

“I’m fine. You feel so good, Poe, you feel so good.”

 

“I hope so.” A slightly teasing note in Poe’s voice. His fingers moved further out. “You’re so built, Ben. You’re big. You’ve got a lot of muscle there, a lot of tension.”

 

By now, Ben was starting to relax enough where anything would have seemed funny. “Are you going to keep a running commentary throughout?” he said, but there was a note of teasing, a slightly sleepy note in his voice.

 

“Maybe.”

 

By the time Poe was done, it was like the tension had drained from Ben’s body, the aches and pains having subsided. He felt so very exhausted and yet looser, more relaxed even as he rested his head on Poe’s lap. Poe’s hand played with and stroked his hair as Poe hummed softly.

 

“How do you feel?”

 

“Better. Really good.”

 

“That’s good. I know I’m worrying about you a lot, Ben, but I just want you to be happy. To be safe. You deserve that happiness, and I mean that, with all my heart.”

 

Poe’s voice sounded so very earnest, so very kind, even as Ben’s eyes drooped, even as he felt tiredness overtaking him at last. “You deserve...happiness too.”

 

“I’ll get there. Hopefully.”

 

“I can stay with you, if it keeps the nightmares away.”

 

“You should get back.”

 

“Just for the night...can I stay? Just to help you through this.”

 

“Just for the night.”

 

Ben fell asleep in Poe’s lap, content, boneless, damnably happy, a man he loved and who loved him in turn holding him, and for a moment, his dreams were soft and loving.

 

For a moment. The dream shifted, and it became full of fighting and anguish, full of the Dark -- and Ben jolted awake in Poe’s arms, looking up frantically at him.

 

“He’s killing them, Poe.” The horror of it washed over Ben in that moment, and he realized his eyes were leaking. “Oh Force, he’s killing them...”

 

“Who, Ben?” Poe looked down at him, worry in his eyes. “Breathe, just breathe -- who’s killing them?”

  
Ben forced air into his lungs. “It’s Lisaris,” he said. “He’s out. I don’t know how, but he’s out.”


	36. Chapter 35: Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yana/Snoke continues to manipulate Ben, and we see the first sign of Ben falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The problem with finding Lisaris was that for all intents and purposes, he seemed to have disappeared in the Force. Even the search for Lisaris through the Force seemed to have turned up a dead end. At least Sarik was on the case.

 

“If we find the bastard, we’ll bring him in,” Sarik said. “I promise, Master Skywalker. You can count on us.”

 

And in the meantime, Ben continued to practice. The news of Lisaris’ escape seemed to be almost like a rebirth of sheer compulsion in him. The need for perfection. The need to get better. The need to stretch himself past every sort of limit that existed -- even the matter of just needing water and food. Poe had to remind him to eat, to drink. “You can’t function against Lisaris if you’ve barely eaten and drank,” he said.

 

And though Poe was right, it didn’t make it any less humiliating. It seemed that becoming, truly, good enough (no, not just good enough, _perfect_. Even good enough wasn’t good enough, not truly), was ever out of reach. Even trying his hand at some of the enemies in the training simulator was just a reminder that there was still much to learn.

 

It was one day, on his way back to see Poe after a training session, that Ben ran into Yana. He was less banged up than previously; he was getting better at the Ataru training module, at least, but he still had his share of bruises. Still, he could live. Bruises weren’t too bad. Bruises were acceptable injuries.

 

“Ben,” Yana said. “You must be working quite hard lately.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“There was actually something I wanted to show you, Ben. If you’re intrigued, of course.”

 

“What do you have in mind?” Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too long. He still needed to see Poe.

 

“Just a technique that I recently learned about.”

 

“I just hope it’s quick. I had -- ’’

 

“To see Dameron?” And if Ben didn’t know better, he could have sworn that he saw a flash of jealousy come over Yana’s face -- but what did Yana have to be jealous of? Ben still very much valued his company. He was a good companion. Perhaps Yana thought he was being neglected.

 

“Well, yes,” Ben said.

 

“I know. I can smell him on you.”

 

Ben’s cheeks heated up in that moment. Yana tilted his head. “Forgive me, Ben. Did I say something...improper?”

 

“No.” Ben said. “Not at all, actually.” That wasn’t the truth, but he preferred at least to steer it away from the subject of others’ scents.

 

“You’re uncomfortable. Forgive me. It was...crude.”

 

“It’s all right. So, what did you want to show me?”

 

They walked into the training room once again and Yana gestured towards the floor. “Sit down, Ben.”

 

Ben did so, and said, “So what’s this about?”

 

“Before we begin, Ben, you may wish to understand that the Council may not approve of this. They would likely think I was teaching you things of the Dark Side and they would be right.”

 

“Yana...” Ben looked at him in alarm. “Are you sure about this? I mean, it’s wrong -- ’’

 

“Why exactly, Ben?”

 

“It’s violent. It’s cruel. It’s self-centered. The Sith think inwards, mostly about themselves.”

 

“And is the Light any better?”

 

“The Jedi are selfless. They use their talents to...” Ben trailed off. Did they? Considering Haranka, considering Snoke...did they ever?

 

“You see? We both know better than that.”

 

“But the Dark Side...”

 

“I think you’ll find that the Dark Side is a misunderstood beast. The Jedi merely slap it onto anything they disagree with. They use it to restrain others. They use it to control others, especially those who are truly unique.”

 

“I -- ’’

 

“You are unique, and I do not say that lightly.”

 

Ben’s face flushed. “I don’t feel unique.”

 

“You are. When I first came to the Academy, I noticed that you had a unique blend of both the sides of the Force in you -- both sides as opposed to the labels that the Jedi like to abuse. Now, Ben, it’s not what you think. It was as if both sides of the Force formed a certain harmony within you, a certain coexistence.”

 

Ben looked away then in horror. So that was why. That was why all along. “It all makes sense...” he said.

 

“The Dark is part of you as much as the air you breathe. Do not be afraid of it. Embrace it. Close your eyes. Touch it, touch the rage inside you.”

 

“I -- I can’t do it -- ’’ Even the idea of drawing on his rage, the thing that the Council had insisted on him not drawing on for some time, was terrifying. And the idea of the Dark Side being part of him -- he couldn’t bear it to be part of him. It seemed almost too big, too terrible.

 

“You can. It’s been part of you all along.” Yana’s voice was all but a croon at his ear. “The rage is part of you, Ben. Just let it in. Let it flow through you.”

 

_Too big -- too frightening -- can’t -- can’t -- so close, too close, am I doomed to this, am I, am I --_

 

After a long while of struggling, Ben closed his eyes, and he remembered. Thomas’ body. The fact that that _animal_ , Lisaris, who had tortured Poe and played a role in Thomas’ death, was now roaming free and they were still hunting for him. And he gritted his teeth.

 

The rage was flowing too freely through him.

 

In his mind, he could see, momentarily, what Yana saw: himself, fierce-faced, eyes full of fire, seeming almost like a creature of pure rage, a warrior in his own right, than anything else. And Yana’s thoughts. _Glorious. Just glorious._

 

And in spite of himself, he felt some pride mix into the anger as well. Pride, shame over the anger...he doubted anyone had called him glorious before and yet he found himself all but going for that phrase like a starving kath hound to scraps. _Too much Vader_ , he was used to. _Human minefield_ , he was used to. But not _glorious_.

 

“Let go, Ben,” Yana said. “Release it. I want to see you.” And his voice -- it was almost like it was coaxing every bit of power out of Ben, every piece, as if his voice was the guide to Ben’s power slowly being released.

 

Green lightning, pure green lightning, issued out of his fingers towards the droids, shattering them, and Ben watched in amazement even as the droids broke to pieces. Whole streams of Force Lightning, clusters of it, pure crackling energy that was such a light green that it seemed almost white...

 

Ben lowered his hands, gasping. “I...did that,” he said, “Did I really do that?”

 

“The potential was always in you,” Yana said. “You just needed to release that.”

 

It was there. And it felt glorious. And yet...

 

“Was what I did right, though?”

 

“Don’t think about what’s ‘right’, Ben,” Yana said. “Think about what is necessary. Necessity is far more important than the Jedi’s puerile ideas of what’s right and wrong. I doubt that saved Thomas in his time of need.”

 

“No.” Chastened, Ben looked away. “I...forgot...”

 

“Forgive me, Ben, I didn’t mean it that way. What I’m saying is that you have to make sacrifices once in a while. Perhaps twice? The typical black and white interpretation of the Force is something the Jedi adopt to get through their days without screaming too much.”

 

“It can’t be that.”

 

“Not for you, of course,” Yana said. “I know you genuinely want to be a good Jedi. You’re hypermoral to the last. But I’m afraid that most Jedi want the illusion of moral superiority as opposed to moral superiority itself.”

 

The first was right enough. But the latter...

 

Was Yana right? That was the question. Was Yana right in the fact that the Jedi really were what he described? After all, Ben had grown up with the Jedi seeming almost like gods -- whatever they said went. And yet...

 

“Why didn’t they tell me about my own...darkness?”

 

“They were afraid of what you were capable of, so they held you back,” Yana said. “They would have found you easier to control if you were ignorant of what you were capable of, if you saw yourself as simply having a damaged core as opposed to being something glorious.”

 

“So I’m not damaged -- ’’

 

“Far from it. I daresay you are above any of their limiting, degrading labels.”

 

Ben swallowed. He felt an unexpected lump in his throat. “I...I never thought...”

 

“It is the truth.”

 

“I know you speak the truth, but I never thought...” Ben ran a hand through his hair. “It’s all a lot. I have to take this in. I’m going to practice what I’ve learned, I promise you.”

 

“I know.”

 

Even going off to see Poe, Ben felt strangely liberated, strangely alive. For the first time in his twenty years, he felt a sense of understanding as to who he was. He was not tainted, but unique. The Beast was not something to be feared, but a part of him as much as his freckles or his eyes, as part of him as the air he breathed, the Beast was something to be embraced.

 

For the first time in twenty years, he was not no one, but someone.

***

 

It was one of many places that they met that Ben showed Poe his new trick.

 

Ever since they had declared their love for each other, there had been something about Yavin IV where every small place seemed like magic. Places where they could steal kisses, steal embraces, where Poe could take in the smell of Ben, the feel of his larger chest against Poe’s cheek and the beat of his heart. Places where they met seemed to transform into something out of fairy tales -- the secret glades, the towering trees, the bushes, so much more. Places where Ben whispered love into his hair, where touches ranged from gentle to more passionate, and where they could be safe for the moment, safe from the galaxy, safe from the war, getting a brief reprieve.

 

It was there that Ben ran to him and all but swept him up in his arms, and Poe buried his face in his chest. Ben pecked kisses into his hair, his neck, his shoulder, and Poe inhaled his scent.

 

“I found something that can help me against Lisaris.” All in between kisses, in between touches. “I can do this. I can really do this.”

 

“That’s wonderful, Ben!” Poe raised his head, looking up at Ben -- his hair was already messy from Ben’s kisses, his neck already having its marks where Ben got too enthusiastic. “What is it?”

 

“Yana taught it to me. It’s a Force power. Just follow me and I can show you.”

 

Poe followed him.

 

It was a small clearing, a clearing that had a series of bushes around it, that was the next place that Poe and Ben stepped into. Ben turned to look at him. “You’d best stand back for this one,” he said.

 

Poe stepped back. “Nothing’s gonna explode, is it?”

 

Ben laughed -- it was a joyful sort of sound, vibrant and alive, so vibrant and alive that it startled Poe. It was a sort of sound that when Poe heard it, he cherished it. “No. Everything’s fine. Nothing’s going to explode. I just want to show you something.”

 

He raised both his hands. And it was then that green lightning shot out of his fingertips, hitting the bush in front of him. Poe barely stood out of reach of the lightning, the green spikes of lightning that illuminated Ben’s face, illuminated the sort of look in his eyes that seemed almost feverish, passionate, a sort of fire in them, his hair, wild around his face, his face itself, passionate and all but wild.

 

In that moment, Ben looked both terrifying and utterly glorious.

 

Poe stood back, watching even as the green lightning, bright green, singed the bush. For a moment, Poe could have sworn that a miniature fire started before it went out, thankfully. He turned to look at Ben once the lightning died down. Ben, whose face still didn’t seem to have lost the fire in it. As beautiful and terrifying as a storm, and just as enthralling in its way.

 

“It’s...impressive,” he said, “But is it safe?”

 

“Course it is. I mean, I wouldn’t use it unless I have to. But it’s perfect. I mean, I can finally stand a chance against that monster.”

 

There was such an amount of excitement in his voice that Poe wished he could share and yet there was something in his eyes -- predatory, hungry, eager for vengeance for Thomas -- that made Poe’s skin unexpectedly erupt in gooseflesh. He wasn’t a Jedi, and nothing about the Code or the Dark Side or anything actually made sense to him, but he knew that Ben’s eyes were unsettling.

 

“That’s good,” Poe said. _Just don’t go over the edge._ He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he swore there was something about Ben in that moment that made him wonder if he was close to going over the edge. Something about his burning eyes, how they were still burning. “That’s...wonderful.”

 

“Isn’t it? It’s like we finally have a chance for ending this war.”

 

Ending the war. Even that idea was too wonderful to be real. No more killing. No more battles. No more of the nightmares, no more of the worrying about was-what-I-did-right. No more of it. It would be over, and that bastard Snoke would be in custody --

 

“Yeah.” Poe looked up at him. “Maybe we finally have a chance.”

  
He could only hope that it wouldn’t end up costing Ben himself.


	37. Chapter 36: Freefall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben continues to train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A year passed. Ben turned twenty-one, and already he was intimidated just by the sheer milestone of the age. To think that he had come so far, to think that he was twenty-one now and the war was still going on...would it ever end? That was the question. He only knew that no matter what happened, he would keep fighting. He would never, ever stop. Uncle Luke would be furious if he found out what exactly Ben was doing, but Ben knew that he would do whatever it took just to win the war. Just to make things right again. So he trained.

  


All the while, Ben learned more about the powers that he had. All of them that seemed to be so very denied to him by his uncle. All of them that seemed to be hidden from him. All of them that seemed to be repressed. And to think that Uncle Luke had forced them to stay repressed because of...

  


Because of what, exactly?

  


Did his uncle really want him to have a damaged core? A damaged sense of self? Everything about his uncle suggested that he wouldn’t do such a thing, and yet at the same time, people like Master Naris...

  


Then again, men like Naris just wanted other people to suffer with them. How he treated Mike was proof enough of that. Ben could still remember the way that he would fling insults at Mike, things like him only being cut out for the AgriCorps. It seemed that even years later, things like that seemed to be scorned. When Ben was a youngling, saying one was only cut out for the AgriCorps was one of the ultimate forms of humiliation, and Naris used it on Mike.

  


Still, did the others want them all to have damaged selves?

  


Ben didn’t know. Still, in his meantime, he slipped Mike a few tricks to get one up on Naris. Mike, nineteen years old and still struggling with the matter of his Master, just needing a chance to prove himself. Always needing a chance.

  


And Ben continued to practice himself. To learn. Continued to explore all the aspects of what he had been denied, and he found that like a starving man presented with a meal, he practically devoured it.

  


It was always in secret that they held their meetings. Away from Uncle Luke, away from even Poe. There was a sort of excitement, a sort of thrill, just knowing that he had those talents and was starting to _use_ them...

  


“You’ve done beautifully.” Yana said. “Your talent is truly astounding, Ben. Your sheer _skill_. I have never had a student with such promise...before you.”

  


And there was something about it that made Ben all but flush with pride. He swore he could feel it, head to toe. “Master Yana, I’m flattered, but I’m...not that good.”

  


“And I say that you sell yourself short.”

  


“I’ve had practice. Uncle Luke’s training, things like that...”

  


“It’s where you come from. The Dark Side and the Light.” A hand trailing down Ben’s cheek as if he were indescribably precious, and Ben’s breath hitched. “You are made of the finest materials, and is it not the finest materials that an artist has to work with? That make a masterpiece? And you are, truly, in progress of becoming a masterpiece, Ben.”

  


There was such reverence in his voice that Ben could not help but look up at him, overwhelmed. He had never been spoken to like that. Maybe a reproval for reading minds, a reproval for what seemed like just about anything, but being appreciated...

  


“Thank you.”

  


“It is the truth.”

  


Even getting to the lesson, which was crushing objects with the Force, reaching out with his rage felt too easy now. It was as if Ben were reaching through what remained of his misgivings, and his misgivings were starting to cave like flimsiplast. Yana spoke. “Let go, Ben. Let go. I want to feel you in the Force.”

  


Ben reached out in that moment, and he could feel the oscillations of energy from the droid even as he did so. The droid bent back at the neck just then and exploded, letting the pieces scatter everywhere. Ben managed to barely duck away even as the droid shattered everywhere, pieces flaming even as it did.

  


“Good. Now, another. Draw on your fury, Ben. I want to hear you.”

  


Ben’s fury was practically a song in the Force.

  


***

Poe was already working on upgrades to BB-8 when Ben returned, not walking but practically running to Poe just to sweep him up in his arms.

  


There was something about the look in Ben’s eyes that was enough to make Poe both excited with him and also nervous in his own right. If there was a way to make the war shorter as Ben had claimed, to make it finally end, it was a miracle. And yet there was something in Ben’s eyes that scared him. It was almost like the eyes of someone who had gotten sick, and how feverish and glazed those eyes looked. Though the idea of winning this miserable war seemed too wonderful to be logical, that was the problem. Too wonderful to be logical. Even as Ben all but swept him into his arms and kissed his forehead, the top of his head, and his mouth for good measure, Poe accepted the kisses, all the while wishing he could share in Ben’s joy.

  


He just didn’t like the look in his love’s eyes. How glazed they seemed. How feverish and how impassioned and how...almost fanatical.

  


So Ben hugged him. Held him. And Poe held him back, all the while hoping that there was some way to pull Ben back from that edge he was going towards.

  


_I love him. Stars willing I do._ He loved this beautiful, tempestuous, illogical man, as beautiful as a storm. A man who just loved you utterly, all but swept you up in that love.

  


“Hey, Ben,” he all but mumbled into Ben’s chest, even as the latter rested his cheek against his hair. “What did you find?”

  


“I’m doing it, Poe.” Ben’s hands were gentle on Poe’s shoulders, even as he seemed to bend a little to look Poe in the eye. Still that burning look in his eyes, his eyes that seemed to be full of sheer fanaticism, sheer hunger. “When we finally catch up with Lisaris, I’ll be ready for him. By the stars.”

  


“That’s...wonderful.” Poe reached up to touch Ben’s face. He reached up to touch it, as if hoping he could still hold onto Ben, still love him...

  


But why wouldn’t he be able to hold onto Ben?

  


Poe couldn't put his finger on it. He only knew that he couldn’t lose Ben. _By the stars, I can’t lose you. I don’t know how I’ll lose you but I can’t lose you._

  


A larger hand gently caught his. “What makes you think you’ll lose me?”

  


“I’m just scared for you.” How was he going to describe that burning look in Ben’s eyes, that look of fierce sort of hunger even as Ben spoke about a new ability he’d learned. Poe didn’t know about the Dark Side of the Force, but he knew that something terrible was happening to the man he adored. Ben’s eyes, those burning, beautiful eyes, the way he spoke, some of the things he said...

  


“I’m not falling to the -- ’’

  


“The Force doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Poe said. “I just don’t want you going off the deep end.”

  


“Maybe I don’t have to.” And there was so much confidence in his voice that Poe wished he had that confidence. “Maybe I can still stay on the right path.”

  


“I hope you’re right about that.”

  


Ben’s face fell. “Poe...you don’t have any faith in me?”

  


“I have every bit of faith in you.”

  


“Then why are you questioning me?”

  


“I just worry about you a lot, that’s all.”

  


Ben drew him in closer. “You don’t have to.”

  


“It’s just...” How was Poe supposed to say _I’m worried you’re going off the deep end anyhow_? “I don’t want you going too far in stopping Lisaris. That’s all.”

  


“I won’t.” Gentle, soft all the while. “I won’t, Poe.”

  


Poe looked up at him, and he wished that he could believe him. But by the stars, he would never stop loving him, never stop being there for Ben, never stop protecting him.

  


“I love you,” he said. _No matter what happens, Ben, I’ll never stop loving you._ It was hard not to love this living storm, this living hurricane.

  


“You don't have to tell me,” Ben said. “I already know.”

 


	38. Chapter 37: Finding Narudar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Narudar surfaces, and our heroes have to go and find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Ben’s training continued. And the more he trained, the more, Ben thought, that he seemed that he had it all together. The more, it seemed, that he was starting to become someone, as opposed to simply no one.

 

Annie would get it. So many others would get it. Including Poe. Ben knew it. He wasn't getting it now, but he would get it in time. He would understand why he had to do it. He would understand that it was necessary in order to stop Lisaris. He would understand that it was necessary to end the war quickly. He would understand completely, and he would welcome it.

 

In the meantime, Ben continued to train with Yana, away from Uncle Luke’s prying eyes, away from Poe, feeling more and more powerful by the day. He sparred with Yana, and he perfected his forms. He sparred with Yana until it seemed that his muscles ached, and then he went to see Poe.

 

All of it seemed to be a glorious blur, and he found that once he tasted it, he needed more of it. He loved it -- the sound of Yana’s voice at his ear encouraging him, the moment before his power washed over him like a giant wave, the feel of Poe’s lips afterwards all but plundering his own. He loved what Yana said, as if Yana were painting over the wounds that Ben had suffered over the years, as if Yana’s voice were the balm to what Ben had been through. As if Yana were his second home, the first being Poe. Showing off his other defensive techniques to Poe and how, for some of them, Poe’s face lit up in amazement.

 

It was moments like these that Ben treasured. When Poe wouldn’t look at him in worry, but in amazement. As if he were worthy of it. Even that thought, that he was worthy of Poe’s affection, his admiration, was too wonderful to imagine.

 

Maybe that was why, Ben thought, long after he was done practicing a lightsaber form -- Juyo, this time -- Poe’s horror hit him so deeply. He didn’t want to think, even for a moment, that he was unworthy. Even that idea had more bad memories attached to it than Ben could count.  

 

“You are troubled,” said Yana. “About the pilot, aren’t you, Ben?”

 

Heat spread from Ben’s cheeks to his neck. His whole body might as well have been Jakku’s beating suns. Yana couldn’t just smell Poe on him

 

_the smell of Poe from their meetings, fevered, hungry kisses and almost crushing embraces_

 

he could hear Ben’s thoughts as well. How Ben worried for him, how Ben longed for him to understand, to listen.

 

He looked up at Yana. “Am I really that transparent?”

 

“You might as well be an open holobook, Ben.”

 

“I guess I need to work on shielding myself more.”

 

“I could teach you. But I do wonder -- why do you worry so deeply about the pilot?”

 

“His name’s Poe.”

 

“Poe, then, forgive me. He seems to devalue you, Ben.”

 

 _Does he?_ Poe had had quite a bit of worry, of course, but he was still radiating love.

 

“He’s just worried about me is all.”

 

“So others have said. It’s always _worry_ with them, isn’t it, Ben?”

 

“But it’s not like that with Poe. It really isn’t. Honest.”

 

“I know you have the utmost faith in him. But he devalues you. He regards your gifts as something to be afraid of, instead of cherished.”

 

“It isn’t like that at all.”

 

“Really, then? Perhaps I got a mistaken impression. Perhaps I misunderstood.”

 

“I think so,” Ben said. Then he felt a stab of guilt and said, “Really, Master Yana, Poe and I...we have our disagreements is all. He’s just taken to some things and not others.”

 

“So it’s a matter of preference then?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Are preferences really relevant in a situation such as this? Wouldn't you do anything to end the war, Ben?”

 

“Yes. Anything.” Just to make it all stop, just to make it all end. Just to make the war end immediately, to make sure that people didn’t have to suffer anymore, to make sure that Poe didn’t have to suffer the sorts of nightmares that occasionally made him call Ben in the night and Ben had to soothe him back into sleep...

 

“Then listen carefully. Constrict your hand in the Force. It’s so easy, isn’t it, Ben?” Yana’s voice was at his ear, soft, reassuring. “So easy...”

 

Ben constricted his hand just then, clenched it. The training dummy came flying towards him, and he was almost tempted to duck out of the way, only for it to land securely in his hand by the throat. For a moment, looking at it --

 

\-- it seemed too much like a person.

 

Ben released the training dummy, let it fall to the floor, let it fall into pieces.

 

“You learn quickly,” Yana said. “There’s plenty more that I want to teach you.”

 

It was later that Ben went to see Poe, who was in the hangar, much to his pleasant surprise.

 

“What are you doing here?” he said.

 

“Apparently, Mr. Sarik’s spotted Narudar Ren on Dantooine,” Poe said. “So we’ve got a chance.”

 

“That’s wonderful!” Ben said. “We can catch this monster and end the war.”

 

“Yeah.” Poe grinned, and Ben could sense, for the first time, a sort of hope that things would turn out all right. “Finally.”

 

And Ben knew that he wanted it to be all right as well. He knew that he wanted it to be over for Poe, just so he wouldn't have to worry about him suffering anymore. He wanted it to be over just so others wouldn't be in danger anymore. So others wouldn’t be suffering anymore.

 

So everything would be okay in the end.

 

“Maybe after we capture or kill him he won’t hurt anyone else,” Ben said.

 

“Stars, yes.” Poe’s voice shook. “I just...I hate him. Just for what he’s done. Everything he’s done. What he did to those people -- ’’

 

“I know,” Ben said, softly.

 

He placed his hands on Poe’s shoulders. Poe was such a bright presence; it was always awful seeing his light go out. Or seem to go out.

 

Maybe after the war, Poe wouldn’t have to suffer under any other forces that wanted to snuff out his light again. Ben would protect him, forever and always, and Poe would never have to hurt again -- he deserved that much.

 

Across the hangar, Jessika Pava, who had saved Ben in the desert of Jakku six years prior, called over to Poe. Poe sighed. “I better go,” he said. “Jess may be wondering where I’ve been.”

 

“Gotcha,” Ben said. “Be careful, Poe.”

 

He placed his forehead against Poe’s, and they both exhaled, as if savoring the moment briefly before they had to go off to capture Narudar.

 

“I’ll be right with you, you know,” Poe said. “No matter what happens.”

 

“Same here.”

 

They drew away, Ben placing a quick kiss on Poe’s forehead. Then Ben spoke. “See you out there.”

 

“You too.”

 

Even walking off towards his own fighter and getting in, Ben could only hope that they could capture Narudar. Lisaris was nowhere to be found, but they could at least stop Narudar from destroying anything else.

 

Hyperspace was just a while away. They blasted off in that moment, shooting into hyperspace -- and towards an uncertain outcome.


	39. Chapter 38: Blood and Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes track Narudar to Dantooine, Ben has a self-loathing attack, and Poe has his own monsters to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I'm going to be honest, Ben's mental breakdown after getting cut by Narudar wasn't planned -- it just suddenly happened. Oh, Ben. *Hugs* I really need to do something nice for you, I swear to God. Poe too, actually. Also, the last name "Adare" is definitely a KOTOR II shout-out -- Terena Adare was awesome in K2 (one of my favorite things about K2 was the sheer amount of strong female characters. K1 as well, with Bastila, etc.) and I'd like to think her descendants are around still being awesome.

Dantooine could not have seemed more empty.

  


Even as they disembarked from the ship, Ben could feel the sheer emptiness of the planet, the sheer isolation, as if there was something about it lost to ancient history. He knew back in the Old Republic era, it was a place for one of the most famous Jedi Enclaves. Before Darth Malak had destroyed it, of course, and before later on, Palpatine had raided it during Order 66.

  


He looked through the lonely sky, reached out through the Force, trying to find any sign, any at all of Narudar. Through him, they could end the war. Finding Lisaris, and finding whoever this Snoke was and capturing them both before they could do more harm. Preferably with maximum security.

  


“Can you feel anything?” Poe’s voice. Something that felt almost grounding in this sea of melancholy, this sea of I-shouldn’t-even-be-here.

  


“Not yet.” Ben sighed. “This whole planet...who would want to hide out here?”

  


“It’s not too bad,” Poe said. “I mean, the trees are nice.”

  


“The trees are nice?” Ben said wryly.

  


“Well, and it’s got a nice view.”

  


“I don’t know.” Ben rubbed his temples. “It just seems like such a...sad planet. Like the whole planet is just swimming in that sadness.”

  


“You can feel it?”

  


Ben nodded. “It’s like we shouldn’t be here. If we weren’t going to find Narudar...”

  


“I feel it too.” Annie, this time. “So that’s the planet that Palpatine raided during Order 66?”

  


“And that Malak bombed during the Jedi Civil War,” Ben said. “No sign of Narudar. He could be hiding somewhere else completely for all we know.”

  


“We could always ask around,” Poe said. “ ‘Excuse me, have you seen a homicidal sonuvaHutt who destroys cities for the stang of it?’”

  


His voice was light, but Ben could sense the anger in him, the sort of anger that threatened to boil over, and he reached out, tentatively, towards Poe’s hand. Poe took it.

  


“I didn’t scare you, did I?”

  


“No,” Ben said. _And it would be hypocritical for me to be scared anyway. After all, I’m bad in the anger department as well._ “I want to stop him too. Believe me. He’s a monster. And the sooner that we get him back behind bars, the better.”

  


“Preferably maximum security.”

  


“Yeah.”

  


They did ask around, with the new leader of the Dantooine government, Molly Adare. A strict woman in her late thirties, Molly seemed harried, but then again, Ben thought, if one had to deal with some of the things that she had to deal with most likely, including a Mandalorian terrorist hiding on her planet...well, it was a miracle that she wasn’t more harried, actually.

  


“I don’t know if Narudar is here,” she said, “But I’ve heard reports of the old Jedi Enclave being raided. Mostly for old artifacts. A lot of the militia’s been killed coming down there, so be careful. You better keep your weapons at the ready.”

  


“Figured that,” Ben said. “Thank you, Administrator. If we find anything about whoever’s been hoarding the artifacts, we’ll let you know.”

  


Even heading down to the Enclave, there was something about it where, looking at it, it felt like arriving on a chapter of ancient history that had been long been closed. And yet there was also something awe-inspiring about it -- this was their history, their ancient history, their heritage. Part of their heritage, the fabric of who they were.

  


And then Ben saw the bodies. Bodies that looked as if they had been slashed with a lightsaber. One had their eyes open as if in shock -- whoever they had expected among Vader’s crew in trashing the Dantooine temple had apparently been a terrible betrayal, something that they didn’t expect.

  


Ben knelt beside the corpse and, gently, closed their eyes. He stood up. He could already feel the emptiness of the Enclave radiating off it. As if it were some sort of energy, some sort of character all its own.

  


“So that’s what happened?” Poe sounded disbelieving, disgusted. “Vader...I mean, I knew that he was an evil bastard, but it’s another thing to see it.”

  


“I know.” The bodies looking up at them seemed to be frozen in shock, betrayal. Some bore blaster wounds -- clone troopers, no doubt. Stepping over them, Ben wondered why no one had come around to burying them properly.

  


They deserved that much, really.

  


When they got back, perhaps, they could find a way to see to them properly.

  


They headed into the Enclave, and Ben could feel him. He went still, reaching through the Force, and he could sense Narudar, in one of the old rooms where those on Dantooine likely took refuge from Malak before the Enclave was bombed, as if he was...

  


Waiting. As if he was waiting for this the whole time.

  


“Ben.” Poe’s voice. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  


“It’s Narudar.” Ben said. “I can feel him. And I think he’s ready for us.”

  


“Ready?” Jess said.

  


“He’s...pleased to see us,” Ben said. “He hasn’t had a challenge like this in a long time.”

  


“A challenge?” Snap said. “Is that what he calls firing on innocent people?”

  


“I think so.” Ben swallowed. Even thinking about it in those terms was repulsive. “It’s why he joined the Knights of Ren -- ’’

  


“Who exactly is Ren, anyway?”

  


“I don’t know,” Ben said. “The leader of the Knights, I assume.”

  


“ _Right_ ,” Snap said, dryly. “Stupid question.”

  


“I’m just wondering who calls themselves Ren.”

  


“Maybe it’s the Supreme Leader’s last name?” Poe said. “Snoke Ren. Maybe that’s why he decided to try and take over the galaxy...or whatever he wants to do.”

  


“Would make sense, weirdly enough.” Ben sighed. “Unless Ren is the Supreme Leader’s second-in-command, as it were.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe Narudar can give us some answers.”

  


They continued down the hall. The door where Narudar was...

  


The door was already open. Even continuing down the hall, looking about the closed doors, testaments to what once was, the open door on the far left called Ben’s attention. He could sense the arrogance flowing from it, the confidence, the excitement, as if this was a new, exciting game.

  


In the doorway, the Mandalorian in strange, shiny black armor looked over the group. He responded to Poe first.

  


“Poe Dameron,” said Narudar. “An honor to meet you. That was quite the impressive amount of flying that you did back there. I had no idea that I would be facing the best pilot in the Republic fleet back there when we first went into battle, but it is an honor.”

  


Poe tensed next to Ben, and Ben could feel Poe’s thoughts all but colliding into him like an out of control speeder. _Bastard -- bastard thinks this is some sort of game -- bastard thinks this is a contest -- would rather cry on a Hutt’s shoulder than have him call me a worthy opponent --_

  


“Leave him alone,” Ben said.

  


Narudar at least seemed to be distracted from Poe long enough to look at Ben.

  


“You are Jedi Solo,” Narudar said.

  


“I am.”

  


“Lisaris spoke of you. Said you were quite something all right. Can’t say I’ve fought a Jedi before, so...” A bright blue sort of glow surrounded Narudar even as the latter activated his energy shield. “This should be fun.”

  


_Fun._ Like this was a game, and no one’s lives had been destroyed by all this. Ben could already feel the fury all but building in his chest, in his eyelids, and he lashed out with the Force, sending Narudar across the room. He turned towards Poe. “You have anything sharp I can use? I have a feeling this isn’t going to help anything.”

  


Poe tossed him a vibroblade. Ben deactivated his lightsaber, then took the vibroblade and headed towards Narudar, charging at him. They fought, furiously, a nick across Ben’s shoulder making him wince in pain, but pain was irrelevant, pain was a weakness, and he pounded his shoulder, trying to remind himself of the pain. Can’t give up can’t give in can’t let one stupid drop of blood one stupid cut get in the way of things can’t --

  


“You’re a tough one,” said Narudar. “I’ll say that.”

  


Ben shuddered. Even the idea of a compliment from this monster was enough to make his skin crawl. “I’ve practiced.”

  


“I can see that. You are a worthy opponent, Jedi Solo. Can’t say that I’ve come across those in my lifetime. Pretty lonely lifetime.”

  


“And that’s why you’ve done this?” Ben said. “Because you were bored?”

  


“You never felt held back in your life, Jedi?”

  


That hit too close to home. Ben fought again, harder, harsher, vibroblades scraping against one another and drawing sparks. Ben kicked --

  


\-- and knocked the vibroblade from Narudar’s hand.

  


Ben held out his hand and froze Narudar in stasis.

  


He walked out of the room, feeling like his shoulder had opened up again and started bleeding. _Damn you. Weak Jedi. Weak._ Poe and Annie ran towards him, both of them in shock.

  


“Ben,” Annie began, “You’re bleeding.”

  


“It’s nothing,” Ben insisted. _weak not quick enough rusty._

  


“Ben, you’ve got to put something on it.” Poe’s voice was gentle, tender. “It doesn’t look like nothing from what I can see.”

  


Ben took the medpac from Poe before activating it, letting the bacta flow into his bleeding shoulder. The pain stopped, at least. Poe handed him some bandages as well, and Ben wrapped them around his shoulder if only to stop the bleeding. Force, he was tired. It was as if what he’d tried to pass off as a minor injury was starting to tire him -- what kind of Jedi was he anyhow?

  


And in the haze of that injury, the old, nasty thoughts came back.

  


_stupid lazy not good enough couldn’t save your friend_

  


He stamped down on those thoughts. It wasn’t like that at all. He wasn’t quick enough but...

  


_useless nothing not a pilot like your father not a politician like your mother stupid lost your mother deserved better than someone as nothing as you --_

  


“Ben?” Poe’s voice jarred him out of his thoughts. Out of the barrage of self-loathing that seemed as intertwined with failure as the Force was with him. Mediocre Jedi. Nothing really. You may be a mixture of the Force but it doesn't mean you’re strong enough...

  


“I’m fine,” Ben said. “Just...tired is all.” _Weak. Foolish. No room for weakness._

  


“Yeah. I can see that. And Narudar?”

  


“We’re not going to kill him,” Ben said. But it doesn’t mean he can expect us to go easy on him either.

  


“Right,” Poe said. “Got it.” He was so rigid in that moment, and Ben wished that there was some way, any way at all, to get him to stop.

  


He turned to Annie, sent her a quick, questioning look. She nodded. “I’ll take care of Narudar.” Then, “Is Poe all right? He seems angry.”

  


“He just needs some time to breathe a little,” Ben said.

  


Poe nodded. “Breathe. Yeah.” His voice sounded clipped, short.

  


Annie nodded. “We’ll watch Narudar. I don’t think he’s in danger of waking up yet anyway.”

  


“Is Poe doing all right?” Jessika Pava, this time.

  


Ben nodded. “Is it okay if I talk with him?”

  


“Not like there’s a law against it,” Jessika said. “We’ll watch the sonuvaHutt like a rancor.”

  


“Thank you.”

  


Ben and Poe walked out of earshot just then. Poe said, “Are you really going to start laying into me just because I -- ’’

  


“No,” Ben said. “And I’m not going to start lecturing you. I’d look like a hypocrite if I did, and the last thing you need is a hypocrite telling you what to do. I just don’t want you to be upset.”

  


“How can you not -- ’’

  


“Poe. I know.”

  


He placed his hand on Poe’s chest, feeling Poe’s heart all but speeding up underneath. Poe’s chest, he realized, was small next to his own hand. Poe was slender and slight but strong, Ben was tall and muscular.

  


“Of course I’m upset,” Ben said. “I just don’t want him getting to you. Saying all these things like you being...” He trailed off. “You get what I mean.”

  


Poe seemed to relax a little. Instead of being angry, he just looked exhausted, a man who was in danger of having his light extinguished. It was uncharacteristic of Poe, Poe, usually bright and optimistic and witty. Then again, considering what he had seen...

  


“That was the worst,” he said. “I don’t want to be considered anything _like_ that...that murderer. Or anyone he thinks is...accomplished.”

  


“And you’re not.”

  


“I know. And yet sometimes -- ’’

  


“You did them because you had to. Narudar did it for pleasure. You know...you know that old quote from Admiral Onasi about warriors vs. soldiers? You’re a soldier, Poe. Don’t even think on what he said for _one minute_. You’re worth so much more of that monster.” Ben ran a hand along the side of Poe’s face, and Poe relaxed into the touch. His anger seemed to have softened for the moment, replaced by exhaustion -- someone who had been at war for too long and seen too much.

  


_Oh, Poe._ How could anyone even think of making Poe’s light go out? It only made Ben hate this war all the more. The war that never seemed to end. The war that never seemed to stop. Would this be raging until they were in their fifties or so? Ben shuddered to think about it.

  


“I love you,” Ben said. “Let me help you, Poe. Please.”

  


“You’re helping me already.” _And let me help you,_ the silent request was, in those earnest brown eyes. _Let me save you._

  


Never mind that he was fine, that he didn’t need saving, that everything was all right. So some of his powers were...ambiguous. To end the war, he knew full well that he would do anything.

  


“That’s good. How do you feel?”

  


“A little better. I’m not looking forward to anything else that sonuvaHutt wants to say, though.”

  


“Same here.” Ben put an arm around Poe’s shoulders. “Whatever happens, if he tries to goad you, we’ll be there. I promise.”

  


“I know.”

  


“Let’s go see him.”

  
“Yeah.” Poe grimaced. “Why not?”

 


	40. Chapter 39: Find A Center In You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Narudar is interrogated. Things get nasty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Trigger warning for scenes of interrogation and torture. If that stuff upsets you, it's definitely best you skip this chapter. 
> 
> Also, chapter title taken from the lyrics to "Sober" by Tool. It's one of those songs I thought was appropriate for this story.

The room where they had Narudar was a private room. Ben could only assume that it was a place where people of Dantooine, prior to Malak destroying the Enclave, would rest for a while. The room seemed too small for a Mandalorian and several Jedi, but there they were.

 

And right now, the group was already in conflict. 

 

“ -- we should take him back to Administrator Adare -- ’’

 

“Should we? I mean, there’s valuable information to get out of him.”

 

“And Administrator Adare can do that! We can’t just do this...”

 

So the group went on. Ben reached up with his good hand to rub his temples; he couldn’t reach up with his other hand, not with his still injured shoulder. It was getting better, but it wasn’t completely healed. 

 

Ben finally cleared his throat. “Look,” he said, “Why don’t we ask him a few questions once he wakes? It won’t even have to be painful. No, it  _ won’t  _ be painful, never mind have to be.”

 

“We’re keepers of the peace,” Annie said. “Not vigilantes.”

 

“And we’re not being vigilantes! No one’s going vigilante on anyone, Annie. We’re just going to get the information we need to find Lisaris and Snoke. And then put him away behind bars.”

 

“Surely there’s another way to do it.”

 

“You’re acting like we’re torturing him.”

 

“It could devolve into that.”

 

Ben closed his eyes. “It won’t. It really won’t.” He winced even as his shoulder throbbed again. 

 

“Are you all right?” Annie said. 

 

“Never better,” Ben tried to say, but his voice strained. 

 

Poe took his hand, sent a quick look Ben’s way. A questioning look, a quick  _ Let me help,  _ and Ben nodded. It was in private, in a terminal room that led off from the side, that Poe said, “How’s your shoulder?”

 

“Hurting.”  _ stupid weak jedi stupid lost _

 

“Do you need -- ’’

 

“I’m okay.” Ben bit his lip. “It doesn’t hurt that much. It’s just a cut.”

 

“Shoulder wounds aren’t exactly stuff to take lightly.”

 

“Yes, but...”

 

“What?” 

 

“I could have been faster.”  _ Always could have been faster, always, always, always could have been faster... _

 

“Ben, it’s all right,” Poe said. “It would have happened to anyone, believe me.”

 

“It wouldn’t have. I’m not...I’m not...”

 

“What?” Poe’s eyes were soft. 

 

“I’m not  _ perfect. _ ”

 

“Is anyone?”

 

“No, but -- ’’

 

“And you don’t have to be either. Believe me on this.” A hand on his own, nowhere near his shoulder where he had been cut. “What can you be afraid of, not being perfect?”

 

“Being nothing.”

 

“You’re not nothing. If you pardon the double-negative.”

 

Ben smiled despite himself. “Nerfherder,” he said, but it was lovingly. “You’re a nerfherder.”

 

“Guilty as charged.”

 

Ben laughed. He couldn’t help it, it was the least appropriate time to do so with an unconscious Mandalorian in the next room. And yet he was laughing. Poe smiled at him, almost as if there was something indescribably precious about him and he wanted to preserve it. 

 

As if, for a moment, the cut he received really was just a drop of blood and didn’t mean he was weak.

 

Then Poe said. “About Narudar...”

 

“What?”

 

“In all honesty, Ben, I don’t like this either.”

 

“You said it yourself; you’re angry at Narudar.” And the moment it was out of his mouth, Ben was already chastising himself for such a wretched low blow. 

 

“Are you joking? Of course I am! But Ben...Annie’s right. We’re not vigilantes. This could get really ugly, really fast.”

 

“I won’t let it.” Even feeling the amounts of hatred that others had towards Narudar had been akin to being hit with water repeatedly, rushing water, rushing waves, and Ben had only hoped that none of those people would be leading the questioning. 

 

_ he didn’t say “interrogation” -- the word felt too harsh, brought up images of bright lights and harsh voices. it wasn’t like they were going to torture Narudar. torture, after all, was wrong.  _

 

_ “ _ That doesn’t mean somehow things aren’t going to get ugly.”

 

“They won’t as long as they have a Jedi on the scene.” After all, a Jedi would keep things under control, wouldn’t they? A Jedi definitely wouldn’t torture. Inflicting pain for the sake of it, after all, was not the Jedi way. 

 

“Here’s hoping. I just don’t know.”

 

A knock on the door. Jessika’s voice. 

 

“Narudar’s waking up.”

 

_ Stang.  _ “We better go talk to him.” Ben said. 

 

Poe seemed to go rigid for a moment. Then, “All right.”

 

Ben turned to him, took his hands. “I won’t let him do anything to hurt you, Poe. I promise. If he tries anything, I’ll step in.”

 

“Well, thanks.” Poe smiled. “I’ll be fine. Really. I got shaken is all. I didn’t like being compared -- ’’

 

“I know. And you’re not a murderer like him. He doesn’t get it if he thinks you’re in any way like him.”

 

They walked back into the room, and Narudar was awake. He turned to look at Ben. “Jedi Solo,” he said. “I must confess, I didn’t think that I would face such a formidable fighter on the battlefield. You are indeed a worthy opponent.”

 

Ben felt himself go suddenly rigid. Even the idea of this man, this  _ monster,  _ calling him a worthy opponent...it was the Mandalorian way, but already, he felt as if he were back with Haranka, the Echani taunting him with the knowledge he’d gained from battle.  _ Too much like Vader,  _ his mother had thought.  _ Human minefield,  _ Naris had once called him. It was strange how one comment and Ben felt as if he were back as a fourteen year old, back seven years ago, confronting Haranka.

 

Poe’s hand was on his own, a quietly reassuring presence, comforting him, consoling him. He turned to look at Poe, nodded. It was a small gesture,what Poe did, but it was enough to keep him grounded, to reassure him that no, he was far from alone. 

 

“Well, if it isn’t the sonuvaHutt everyone’s been talking about,” one of the pilots, an older one who was probably in her fifties, said. “You don’t look so tough outside your Basilisk, do you...you little monster.”

 

Her thoughts were practically screaming in the Force.  _ Killed my son my wonderful boy I’ll make him suffer for it I’ll beat the hell out of him.  _ The others were just as tense, and though Pava was at least trying to step in as mediator, trying to talk down the woman -- Aria -- there was a certain atmosphere among the squad that already threatened to break into violence. 

 

Someone had to take control of the situation, otherwise...

 

“That’s  _ enough, _ ” Poe said. 

 

And Ben, in that moment, was grateful to Poe if only for that. Stepping in when he did. 

 

He turned to Poe, nodded. Poe had done the right thing; Narudar was a monster, but they couldn’t afford to beat him up during questioning. 

 

Narudar’s thoughts, meanwhile, all but assailed him like a battering ram.  _ Cannot betray my position, cannot betray them. I will not surrender, I will not die -- so said my ancestor on Malachor long ago.  _

 

“No one’s going to kill you,” said Ben.  _ The pilots would like to, but I won’t let them.  _ “I just want to ask you a few questions.”

 

“I will not betray Ren.”

 

“Who is Ren?” Ben said. “Besides your leader, that is?”

 

Silence. Then Narudar started laughing. “Who?  _ Who?  _ That was a good one, Jedi. You mean  _ what _ is Ren.”

 

“I see. Then what is Ren?”

 

“You’ve come to the wrong guy if you’re asking that question.”

 

“Fine. What do you need the artifacts for?” Ben said. 

 

“You think I’m gonna tell you?”

 

Ben took a deep breath and waved his hand. “You will tell us where the artifacts are and what you need them for.”

 

Narudar shook his head. “Nice...try, Jedi.”

 

But even as he spoke, Ben could see images of a figure on his throne in shadow, an academy in the frozen mountains, the artifacts being delivered there, figures similar to Narudar in dress practicing, only with lightsabers. Red lightsabers. 

 

He could already hear Uncle Luke’s voice in his mind, telling him that he shouldn’t be delving into others’ minds just because he felt like it, but this wasn’t just because he felt like it, it was because it was the best thing to do. 

 

_ But you shouldn’t be torturing others,  _ a part of him said.  _ Torture is not the Jedi way.  _

 

But who would be saying this was torture, necessarily? It wasn't, was it? It was just a bit of mindreading. Finding Lisaris. It wasn’t like he was going to enjoy it either, but was there really any other way, any other choice? 

 

Ben followed the images, and Narudar, all the while, grunted, trying to fight off the intrusion, but Ben persisted. Every inch of him was already saying that this was wrong, that he needed to stop, that he needed to get out of Narudar’s mind, and yet he couldn’t afford to stop, not now, not when there were so many lives at stake. 

 

Even going through Narudar’s mind, Ben saw different images. A younger boy, listening to stories of Althir and Cathar, spoken of as if they were not atrocities but great feats in battle. The younger boy listened in fascination, paying keen attention to every detail. His name had been Atin then, Atin the Mandalorian of Clan Ordo, a young boy who sought out his own destiny that would echo in the annals of Mandalorian history.    
  
“So Narudar’s not your real name,” Ben said. “I supposed as much. Narudar. War. You chose it because it was appropriate, didn’t you? Atin Ordo, the boy who wanted to form his own destiny.”   
  
“You don’t...know how that hut’uun disgraced our history. Making us pacifists. Making us weak.”   
  
“Passivity is weakness, Narudar, not pacifism.”   
  


Deeper. Deeper in. More images danced past -- Atin, working for a Hutt on Nar Shaddaa who seemed to mostly see him as one of his servants. 

 

Nar Shaddaa...

 

Lisaris was there. That distinctive gold mask that looked almost Mandalorian-like, the long robes...it was Lisaris. Fading into a crowd, but there nonetheless. 

 

Ben withdrew from Narudar’s mind just then, and Narudar groaned in relief. He looked up at Ben, clearly stunned at what happened -- and in that moment, he seemed not like the destroyer who had given Poe nightmares and left cities destroyed in his wake, but a man. A wrecked man, at that. 

 

And Ben doubted he could have felt more disgusted with himself. He was better than this.  _ Was  _ he better than this? Had he gone too far? 

 

“He’s on Nar Shaddaa,” Ben said, turning to the others as if trying to erase the feeling of Narudar’s eyes on him. “Lisaris. We can go and find him there.”

 

“Right,” Snap said, but his voice seemed to tremble a bit, as if seeing what Ben did had unsettled him. Just about everyone seemed unsettled in that moment, as if Ben had morphed into the Emperor before their eyes.

  
He was struck by Poe’s face most of all, those wide, dazed eyes and mouth gone slack with shock, as if his galaxy had, for the moment, been pushed out of balance. 


	41. Chapter Forty: Trust and Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Poe and Ben have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Just a quick warning for some of the characters being briefly mentioned as...let's say having disturbing views that I don't share. Also, this was pretty hard to write. Scenes I can do, aftermath scenes...not so much.

They headed out, Lisaris still in cuffs, and Ben could feel the distrust, the unease, even some animosity, among at least some of the pilots. Others seemed to, unsettlingly enough, think that Narudar somehow deserved it. Never mind that in the end, it really had been just a job, and Ben was doing the best he could if only to help save the Republic. Still, he wondered if what he did was right somehow. They had found out where the artifacts were being transported (though according to Narudar, they were already gone), and they knew where Lisaris was, but nonetheless...

  


Was what he did right? After all, things like this...

  


“You shouldn’t have done it.” Annie’s voice was the one that cut into the silence.

  


“Lisaris is out there,” Ben said. “You think I should have done nothing?”

  


“I didn’t think you’d stoop to something like this,” Annie said. “This isn’t the Jedi way, Ben, and you know it.”

  


“Do we really need to worry about the Jedi way when there’s a war to win?”

  


“ _Yes_ ,” Annie said. “Even if others don’t realize it, we will. And it’s _wrong_ , Ben.”

  


“She’s right, you know.” Poe cut in. “Ben -- ’’

  


“I just don’t want more planets ending up getting bombed!”

  


_And I don’t want you to suffer anymore. I don’t want you to have nightmares anymore, Poe._ But Ben didn’t say it aloud. It was one of those things that lay under the surface, unknown to anyone but Ben.

  


“You think we don’t?” Annie said. “Ben -- ’’

  


Poe’s hand was on his unwounded shoulder, and it cooled Ben before he could snap back, before he could scream back. “Annie,” Poe said, “I’ll talk to him.”

  


It was away from the others, Snap and Jess guarding Narudar, that Poe spoke.

  


“I just don’t like what he’s doing to you,” Poe said. “You...you keep coming back from all this and you’ve got this look to you like...I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s like something’s gotten into you.”

  


“The only thing that’s gotten into me is ending the war.”

  


“I’m scared for you. I’m just worried about what you’re doing, Ben. I don’t know anything about the Dark Side or anything like that -- ’’

  


“Exactly. You _don’t_.”

  


Poe flinched even as Ben said it, and the moment it escaped his mouth, Ben felt a sudden sense of rottenness. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  


“Right. Maybe I don’t know anything about the Dark Side, but I do know that what Yana’s doing to you is changing you. I love you,” Poe said. “I want to make sure you don’t get hurt. I want to help you, Ben. Please.”

  


_I can’t lose you._ Poe’s thought went. _Not to this._

  


“What makes you think you’ll lose me?”

  


A sad smile from Poe. “Nothing gets by you, does it, love?”

  


“Not really. But what makes you think you’ll lose me?”

  


Poe paused. It was clear he hadn't thought much about how. Ben took him into his arms, gentle, aware of how slight Poe seemed in them.

  


He was always afraid of somehow breaking Poe. There were instances where in comparison to him, Poe seemed to be so fragile, so small, in the way that precious beings were. Now he was aware of how slight Poe was -- slight hands, slight shoulders, under Ben’s larger hands.

  


“I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned down, dipping his head to brush against Poe’s. “You’re not going to lose me.”

  


“Not to them?”

  


“Not to them. Poe...you are my heart. Yana is my teacher.”

  


“I know. That’s what I’m worried about. Just...don’t do things like the whole mindreading thing again. Please.”

  


“Yana didn’t teach me. I think I always had that ability.”

  


“Right. Just...don’t use it to hurt people, Ben.”

  


“I won’t.” Question was, even as they headed back up to join the others, if he could find a way to control it. He couldn’t go to his uncle about it. Uncle Luke would only judge him, and that Ben couldn’t do. Could Yana help him?

  


Ben doubted there was any other alternative.

  


It was long after they spoke with Administrator Adare, long after they headed back to Coruscant to imprison Narudar again, that they headed back to Yavin. Well, some of them. Black Squadron headed back home (save for Poe, who went with the Jedi), while the Jedi headed back to Yavin. And it was then that Ben turned towards Poe even as Yana came out to meet them.

  


“I’ll see you tonight,” Ben said.

  


Poe nodded, if uneasily. Ben took a deep breath and headed towards Yana, towards further hope for his training.

  


“Master Yana,” he said. “I need to talk to you about something.”

 


	42. Chapter Forty-One: A Matter of Ren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yana trains Ben some more, and Poe gets a glimpse into Ben's Force abilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: The concept of ren here and its origins is something I made up specifically for this 'verse. It's sort of a case of me being very loosely influenced (emphasis on "very loosely", as I don't think -- emphasis on "think" -- that ka was treated as religiously as ren is by Yana/Snoke) by reading The Dark Tower and its concept of ka. *Really needs to get back into that book series especially since the movie's coming out* I needed a bit of a backstory for why they were called the Knights of Ren (as opposed to, say, the Knights of Snoke, etc.) and this came about. 
> 
> Also, Yana/Snoke's views are obviously not my own. Really. And the bit about "the elements align" is taken from the Alan Dean Foster novelization (in fact, the Alan Dean Foster novelization definitely influenced my version of Snoke. If you check it out, his villainous characters really do sound like they swallowed the thesaurus, especially Kylo Ren, but it's still a great novelization. And it gives Snoke a personality that I can go off of), which was part of how the backstory of ren was inspired. I can see Snoke as being a believer in some things being destined -- if that makes any sense.

“You did well today.” Yana said.

 

They sat together on the bench in the training room. Ben couldn’t say why, exactly, Yana was saying it now. After all, they hadn’t even started on training yet. And then there was the fact that he had tortured today. He had committed a crime. He hadn’t told his uncle about it yet, hadn’t even given his report yet -- there really was no good way to bring it up, besides the matter of “Uncle, I crossed a line. Or I think I did" -- but he could already feel it weighing him down all the while on the way to the training room.

 

“Did I?” Ben said.

 

“Of course. You found the location of Lisaris where others couldn’t, after all. Cruder beings would have beaten him to death before they got the information. I can recall a Jedi back in the era before the Clone Wars who did that.”

 

“Jedi shouldn’t torture at all.”

 

“Well, what you did may not be considered _admirable_. But you did the right thing. The best thing. The only thing that could be done under the circumstances.”

 

“There could have been alternatives.”

 

“What exactly,” Yana said, wryly, “Offer to talk it out over dinner and wine?”

 

“No, but...” Ben trailed off. Somehow, he was drawing a blank in that regard. Then, “I could have let people on Dantooine handle it.”

 

“And they would have likely lost the prisoner due to their incompetence.”

 

“It’s not a guarantee,” Ben said.

 

“It’s a possibility.”

 

Silence reigned. Then Ben said, “He mentioned something very strange too. About not betraying Ren.”

 

“The Knights, you mean?”

 

“Yes,” Ben said. “It must have been. But what does it all mean? What were the Knights named after?”

 

“It is Milaran.”

 

So whoever formed the Knights had a thing for Milaran culture. Or was Milaran themselves. “What does it mean?”

 

“It is balance,” said Yana. “The natural order of things. Fate. It is what guides us in all things.”

 

“So it is like the Force?”

 

“In a manner of speaking,” said Yana. “But we cannot wield it, we cannot learn it. It is destiny.”

 

“Milarans believe in predestination?”

 

“We believe that there is a destiny in all things,” said Yana. “Every being has their path to go down, for good or for ill, and all things serve _ren_ in the end. _Ren_ is our ruler, our master, our teacher. _Ren_ is what forges heroes...and monsters.”

 

“What if...” An image flashed in Ben’s mind, the armored figure in the cave who bore his face beneath. “What if the monster doesn’t want to become a monster?”

 

“Many monsters don’t. But I never said that _ren_ cannot be a cruel mistress.”

 

Ben placed a hand on Yana’s. “ _Ren_ shouldn’t have done what it did to you.” _Or Thomas, or Poe, or anyone for that matter._

 

“ _Ren_ had its reasons.”

 

“No, it didn’t. You deserved a happy childhood as much as anyone, Master Yana. You deserved so much more than that.”

 

Silence. Yana tilted his head. Then, “As ever, you have too gentle a heart, Ben.”

 

“It’s the truth.”

 

“Like I said, you have too gentle a heart.”

 

“You deserved happiness.”

 

Silence reigned between them for a while before Yana spoke. “But we didn’t really come here to discuss _ren_ , fascinating as it is. You wanted to control your mental reading abilities, and here we are. Close your eyes.”

 

Ben did.

 

“Imagine the waters of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, falling silent and utterly still. Imagine the ice on Hoth, smooth and cold. Now, reach out...”

 

“Is it right, though?” Ben said, eyes still closed. “Uncle Luke -- ’’

 

“I daresay that your uncle devalues you as well,” said Yana. “Poor child -- when you’re surrounded by those who devalue you, it is no wonder that your self-concept is so questionable.”

 

“It’s -- ’’

 

“Is there any other way I’m supposed to interpret this, Ben?”

 

“Well...” Ben could still remember his mother’s fear too well, her nervousness, his uncle’s as well. His father hadn’t devalued him -- indeed, sometimes he overvalidated him -- but he hadn't completely understood Ben’s fears. “It wasn’t all bad.”

 

“But it still hurt you, didn’t it, Ben?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Consider it a chance to prove them wrong. Now, picture the ice on Hoth -- stretch out with your feelings.”

 

Ben hesitated, then did. He was already hit with a whole wave of thoughts just then, a whole wave of dreams, worries, objectives, fears, desires and more hitting him with the impact of an out-of-control speeder.

 

“You can hear them, Ben? Truly hear them?”

 

“It’s too much, it hurts.” Ben gritted his teeth. “All those...people...”

 

“Withdraw, Ben. Withdraw.”

 

Ben did, and the overpowering wave of thoughts was replaced with a sense of them that was a lot like background chatter. “Is it...like this all the time?”

 

“What I can say for sure is that you are strong indeed,” Yana said, and Ben felt a sudden sort of lightness, a sudden sort of feeling like any sort of shame he was carrying dropped away. There was nothing wrong with his abilities; they were something to be cherished, not despised. “I daresay that you were drastically underestimated, Ben. It’s still admittedly puzzling how they can discard one with such power, such...passion behind them.”

 

“They couldn't have meant it.”

 

“Like I said, it’s still puzzling.”

 

_Puzzling._ That was a good word for it. But maybe that was the wonderful thing about all of this, about everything. Ben was finally realizing who he was meant to be. Who he was always meant to be.

 

Maybe it was simply who he was meant to be all along.

 

***

 

Even heading back to his room to speak to Lisaris, Snoke could not help but feel a sort of satisfaction. Ben really was blossoming every day, his talents starting to shine through, and Snoke doubted he could be prouder of him. His masterpiece was still in progress, of course, but once it was done...

 

Well, part of making a masterpiece was showing it off, wasn’t it?

 

Ben would stand by his side in the end. And Snoke would be able to show his masterpiece to the galaxy, resplendent and glorious, as he was meant to be.

 

It was slow, but Snoke was making sure that he understood the truth. The Dark Side...long ago, when he had still been a Jedi, he had been as afraid of the Dark Side as any other Jedi, but he had learned better when he had gone back to Milara. He had learned in the end that the Jedi used the Dark Side as nothing more than a petty label.

 

_And they say only a Sith thinks in absolutes._ For all they claimed the Sith were, the Jedi were worse than that. They were hypocrites, plain and simple. And they were monsters, monsters who preyed on and abused younglings worse than he ever could. Brainwashing them into effectively hobbling themselves. Brainwashing them into hating themselves. And Senator Organa-Solo had done that to her son as well in sending him to the Jedi. She thought that she could prevent the will of _ren_. But _ren_ never could be stopped for long. _Ren_ was their guide, their leader, their teacher, their creator, the old saying went. Ren would always will out.

 

The elements aligned. Ben and Lisaris were caught in the storm. Perhaps only one would walk away alive. Perhaps both would live. Either way, _ren_ was falling into place for all of them.

 

Back at his quarters, under the cover of night, Snoke contacted Lisaris.

 

“Supreme Leader.” Lisaris respectfully dipped his head.

 

“Lisaris. I have a mission for you on Nar Shaddaa. Listen carefully. And all the while, keep quiet about this...”

 

***

 

It was always a joy coming back to see Poe, it truly was. Just sweeping Poe up into his arms, hugging him tightly, and seeing Poe’s delight even as he did it. Smelling his hair, placing a kiss in it, burying his face in the crook of Poe’s long neck and smelling him. Just feeling like he was home, in a way, just being with Poe. Poe always was his home. And talking about how his lesson went, talking about what he’d learned. And just being in Poe’s arms, in his presence, at his side. Or having Poe, in turn, in his arms.

 

Right now, he was already massaging Poe while the holoscreen provided the necessary, soothing background noise. Poe already had some leftover stress in his body from the mission; Ben doubted he could blame him. Considering Narudar...

 

At least Narudar was locked back up where he belonged. Thank the Force.

 

_And what you did was right, somehow?_ a part of him said. _It’s okay, what you did, because a Jedi did it? Jedi don’t torture. Not the good Jedi, anyway._

 

He doubted he could really justify anything anyway.

 

“How’d your lesson go?” Poe’s voice jarred him back to his task -- that being massaging Poe’s neck and shoulders.

 

“I’ve been learning what I can,” Ben said, even as he traced the knots on Poe’s shoulders lightly. He was careful to be light as he could; his own fingers were so clumsy and large (and that was one of the things he hated about his hands, about his fingers) that he feared that he would crack something in Poe by mistake. He kneaded, and Poe moaned softly before saying, “Ben, please, deeper.”

 

“I’ll hurt you -- ’’

 

“I’m not made of transparisteel, Ben.”

 

Ben, tentatively, intensified his touches and Poe moaned in satisfaction even as Ben’s fingers found a knot, smoothing it out. “Stars, you’re too hard on yourself,” Poe murmured. “You wouldn’t break me. You never could.”

 

“I hope not.”

 

“You feel...good, Ben. So damn good to me.”

 

Ben moved further below, smoothing out the cricks in Poe’s back, knowing from the satisfied murmurs and sighs that he wasn't hurting his lover. It was an irrational fear, but Ben always worried about accidentally hurting Poe. It didn’t help that Poe always was slighter and shorter than he was -- there always was that worry of hurting or breaking Poe, especially in terms of their differing statures.

 

Eventually he was done and Poe, exhausted, lay with his head in Ben’s lap, and Ben stroked his hair. Played with it. He had such beautiful, thick hair, and soothing to just stroke and play with.

 

“I just don’t like what he’s doing to you, Ben,” Poe said even as Ben petted his hair.

 

“Who? Yana?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“He’s the best I’ve got. No one else can help me.”

 

“Your Uncle -- ’’

 

“Uncle Luke is terrified of it,” Ben said. “The best advice he’s ever given about my powers is to hide them. Like I’m some sort of...some sort of...”

 

“What, Ben?”

 

“Like I’m a freak. And for what? Nothing.”

 

Poe looked up at him in sympathy. “You’re not a freak, Ben. You never could be. I mean, what’s freakish about you anyway?”

 

“Besides everything?” Ben said darkly.

 

“Ben. Really. There’s nothing freakish about it. You are who you are and as long as you’re not hurting anyone with it...”

 

“I suppose.”

 

“What’s it like, anyway?” Poe said. “Reading minds?”

 

“It’s...overwhelming. It’s like a whole deluge of thoughts. And they’re not always pleasant. The pleasant ones I don’t mind, not really. But the unpleasant ones...”

 

“Doesn’t it drive you mad?”

 

“A little bit. Yana taught me a bit of how to listen to others’ thoughts and I felt like I was surrounded by it. Too many people, too many...sensations. It can be overwhelming.”

 

“I can...well, I can’t imagine, really. But it definitely doesn’t sound comfortable.”

 

“It isn’t. But it’s part of me. As long as I don’t use it for ill...”

 

“Yeah. Exactly.”

 

They fell silent. Ben continued to play with Poe’s hair, feeling the emotions stream off Poe. Contentment, a sense of worry that was lurking just at the edges...and it made him wonder what lay inside that brilliant, quick mind, that sort of glory.

 

He shouldn’t. After what happened with Narudar, it was wrong. And yet...

 

“Poe.”

 

“Mmmmm?”

 

“I know this sounds terrifying, but I want...I want to see what it’s like, being in your mind. I’ve always caught fragments, but never anything full. I want that to change. I want to expand the bond we have. I want to listen to you. I want to hear you.”

 

Silence.

 

“I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

 

“I know. And I do too.” Poe gave a gentle hum. “Just to know what it’s like. I’ve never had the Force before, and I want to understand. At least a little.”

 

“Just lie down.” Ben continued to stroke and toy with Poe’s hair even as he reached out. “Relax into me, Poe. Close your eyes. Let me hold you.”

 

Poe did so, and he was slack in Ben’s lap as Ben played with his hair. Then he reached into Poe’s mind. Poe’s mind, sharp, brilliant, bright, all but iridescent with happiness, a glittering jewel.

 

“You all right?” Poe’s voice.

 

“Your mind is beautiful.”

 

“Is it, huh?” Even Poe’s bemusement seemed like a bright, quick thing, a beautiful thing.

 

“It is.” Even exploring deeper, there was something about it that made Ben wish that he was inside that mind with Poe, seeing what he saw. The vast, open blue skies that he flew under, the stars that dotted the galactic skies that Poe flew into in space battles, or just exploring space, the bright blue lines of hyperspace...

 

“I didn’t think there would be so many stars in the sky.”

 

Poe laughed, and it sounded oddly melancholy. “It’s not all pretty in there.”

 

Even as he spoke, scenes of war cropped up. Smoke streaming from the tops of cities, cities with craters in the middle of them, fighters falling out of the sky. And Poe, desperately trying to get to sleep later on even as images of horror played out behind his eyes. _Did I do the right thing dear stars did I --_

 

Ben’s hand moved down from Poe’s head towards his back, where he continued to massage softly, gently. “You did battle,” he said. “You aren’t a bad person.”

 

“I know. But I keep seeing them, imagining the people in there. And it’s wrong, it’s all wrong, it isn’t glorious, it’s all...wrong.”

 

“I know.” Ben kissed his temple. _And that’s why I need to end this._

 

Poe spoke. “Is it the right thing, though?”

 

“I don’t see an alternative.”

 

“There has to be.” More images flooded Ben’s mind, things like Poe speaking to BB-8 about Ben. _“I don’t like the way that Yana’s treating him, buddy. Not to mention the way he looks at Ben...he looks at Ben like he’s lunch or something.”_

“You think that Yana’s trying to -- ’’

 

“I don’t think you’d actually...well...”

 

“But you think he would actually do that?” Ben said. “He’s my teacher. Nothing more.”

 

Poe took a deep breath. “If you say so,” he said.

 

“He is. We don’t have anything going on between us.”

 

“I know.”

 

Silence reigned between them.

 

“There was actually a moment where I could hear you like you could hear me,” Poe said. “Like I could hear your thoughts. I wish I could hear that again. Your thoughts, your voice. There’s still so much about you I don’t know.”

 

“There’s still so much about me that you _don’t_ want to know.”

 

“I’m not afraid.”

 

“All right.” Ben drew him in close, and rested his forehead against Poe’s. “Listen.”

 

He didn’t know how Poe would react. He didn’t know how frightened Poe would be (if anything else) by the monsters that seemed to reside in his head, skulking around, pacing. How repulsed. Some of the memories Poe walked through they had experienced together, such as some stuff in their childhood, things like playing X-wing pilots together, climbing the Force sensitive tree on Yavin when Ben was twelve and Poe fifteen, Ben comforting Poe after his mother’s death, things of that nature, but other stuff he didn’t know about, things like the monsters in his head.

 

He showed Poe nonetheless. The sort of gnawing hole inside him where he doubted that he would ever, truly be good enough. The Academy, where it seemed to get worse. The nightmares about Thomas’ death. Practicing time and time and time again, never feeling like he got it right, like he was good enough.

 

Like there was ever so much more to learn. He even let some of his thoughts flood to the surface -- his adoration for Poe, his grief for Thomas, and that knowledge that he was never, ever truly good enough.

 

_I think you are,_ Poe said, and there was something about it where Ben felt as if the residual bits of shame momentarily melted away.

 

_Poe --_

 

_You are. There are no words for how much you’re good enough._

 

“I...”

 

This time Ben said them aloud. He couldn’t help it.

 

“Hey.” Poe’s voice was gentle. “You’ve always been good enough. It wasn’t your fault, what happened with Thomas.”

 

“Poe.” His voice cracked, and he looked into the eyes of a man he adored so deeply. Poe’s hand rested on his chest, and Ben was aware of how small it was in comparison to his chest.

 

“It wasn’t. Anyone would have been held up by Lisaris. Anyone at all.”

 

“Would they?” Ben had always been The Exception. The one who stood out. “Poe...”

 

“Yes. Anyone.”

 

“I can’t picture my uncle -- ’’

 

“You don’t know. But I know you’re not a failure.”

 

Ben felt a sudden lump in his throat. Then, “Stars, Poe, you’re too good to me.”

 

“You deserve it. And I love you.”

 

“I know. And I love you.”

  
Poe lay in his lap again and Ben stroked his hair, letting him relax in his arms. And all the while, he promised himself that they would end the war and get Snoke and Lisaris behind bars where they belonged. The both of them fell asleep, falling through to their own world where things were all right, and there was no Lisaris, nothing of that sort, and that...that was enough.


	43. Chapter 42: Sparring Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Poe confronts Yana and goes to one of Ben's sessions. Also, Poe gets pretty turned on from Ben sparring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Trigger warning for brief discussion of domestic violence (not what actually happens, but definite worries on Kes Dameron's part). 
> 
> Also, decided to cut back on the whole sexual scene thing as I'm not quite sure about AO3's warning stuff (and where this story falls under).

A year passed. Lisaris had left Nar Shaddaa, although not before leaving plenty of destruction in his wake. Despite the mission to Nar Shaddaa, Ben had been unable to catch him, which Poe knew already took yet another toll on his lover, and he was practicing all the more. Even seeing him like that -- it was enough to break Poe’s heart just seeing him obsess over it. It would have happened to anyone. And yet the thing was that Ben seemed to view himself as the Exception. Like he was the only one, honestly.

 

Poe watched him, and he worried. Poe looked after him, and he worried.

 

At twenty-five, on the outside, Poe was still showing up to his squad, playing the good leader, cracking jokes and palling around, and yet on the inside there was a Poe Dameron who was still stressed, still having nightmares, this time about Lisaris and what he was doing. A Poe who was also worried deeply about his Ben, and how he was doing.

 

Around Poe, Ben was still overwhelmingly gentle and tender. The way he handled his touches, the way he would relax himself at Poe’s touch...he was still gentle. It was his eyes that were still blazing, still uncomfortable at times to look at just because of how they blazed. How they burned. Even on the nights they made love, on the rare nights that Ben took charge (usually, he was too scared of hurting Poe even by mistake. Ben always touched him so gently on the nights he did take charge and moved with him so lightly it was almost a tease, like he was afraid Poe would break), Poe would look up and see eyes burning with a sort of possessive need that didn’t feel like the man he adored. Even showing off some of his darker tricks (such as the miniature storm that his lightning became, and Poe found that his comparison to a hurricane was becoming more accurate by the minute, even if he did only hit the training dummies), Ben’s eyes would burn the way they did and Poe would be scared, not of him (he doubted he could ever be scared of Ben), but for him. _Is that what you want to be, love? Who you want to be?_

 

Not all of the tricks were like that, of course. But Poe knew that the ones that were made him hope that losing Ben was not an option.

 

And it was out there while polishing the X-wing with his father that he worried. What was happening to Ben? Would he -- ?

 

“You doing okay, Poe? Kiddo?”

 

His father’s voice. Even as they polished the rest of the X-wing, Poe looked up at him, startled back into reality. “Yeah? Yeah. I’m okay. Just a bit...tired is all.”

 

“Poe. Kiddo.” Dad gave him a good-natured grin. “I know you better than that.” Then he said, “Really, kiddo, what’s wrong? You look like something’s gnawing at you.”

 

 _A lot of things, actually._ There were the people he’d killed on his latest mission. It seemed to all be racking up. Was that what he was just plain doomed to be, Poe Dameron, murderer? Ben would disagree, call him a soldier, except there seemed to be something wrong with Ben as well. Something distant. Something lurking beneath the surface. Something that seemed to be on the verge of exploding -- if not at him.

 

“I do, huh?”

 

“A parent always knows,” Dad said, and there was a hint of joking in his tone that made Poe smile a bit despite himself.

 

“Dad,” Poe said, “There’s something I need to tell you about Ben. He and I...”

 

“You’ve been pretty close now, haven’t you?”

 

Heat ran down Poe’s neck and his cheeks,

 

_he was already thinking of burning eyes, of fingers that touched him so delicately, a voice calling him beautiful, all contrasted with the man who had shown Poe Force Lightning_

 

and he said, “I am, Dad. I’ve been with him for at least a couple years now.”

 

Silence.

 

“Well,” Dad said, “Call that something I didn’t know. A couple of years?”

 

“Yeah. And I love him. I’m scared for him, but I love him.”

 

Dad looked thoughtful. “That’s not a good sign, being scared for him.” A pause. “Poe...does he ever do anything to hurt you physically?”

 

“You mean...” And then it dawned on Poe. “Dad, how can you say that? He’d never do anything like that.” He couldn’t remember a time in their relationship so far that Ben wasn’t overwhelmingly physically tender. Ben, whose touches occasionally seemed like he thought Poe was made of transparisteel and would shatter if he touched him wrong, Ben, who seemed to be all but addicted to holding him, kissing him, touching him, Ben, who would look at Poe as if he were unbearably precious. Ben, who would either snuggle into the crook of his body or draw Poe into the crook of his body. It wasn’t like Ben beat him, it wasn’t like Ben hurt him in any way. Ben would never hurt him, Ben just kissed him and touched him like he was the most precious thing in the galaxy.

 

“And he doesn’t do anything else, does he?”

 

Ben. Ben, who could say some of the things that melted Poe’s heart. Ben, who touched him so gently and kissed him so sweetly. Ben, who Poe thought he would never ever stop loving.

 

“He’d never hurt me.”

 

“Gotcha. That’s good. So...what’s going on, anyway?”

 

“Dad...you know one of the Masters, Yana?”

 

“Ah yeah. You told me some stuff about him.”

 

“I think he may be a bad influence on Ben.”

 

“You considered talking with Master Skywalker?”

 

“I don’t know.” Poe got up. “But I’ve been thinking of asking Master Yana about what exactly he and Ben are doing.”

 

“That’s a good plan. Just be careful, Poe -- Yana just seems as slippery as a Hutt’s tail.”

 

“Yeah,” Poe said. “I know.”

 

Later on, it took a long while to find Master Yana, but finding him was almost unmistakeable. There was something about him that towered over the others, like a pale silhouette over a crowd. He was just watching the sunset, but even then there was something about how eerily still he was that still chilled Poe. He couldn’t shake the sick feeling that he had around Yana at times. It was awful, it was rude, but he couldn’t shake it nonetheless.

 

Yana looked down at him, and if Ben was big, Yana was practically towering, like a Wookiee. It seemed to be a running joke that A Lot of Beings Are Taller Than Poe Dameron, but Yana really was tall. Still, Poe wasn’t going to be intimidated. “Master Yana,” he said.

 

“You are Poe Dameron, aren’t you?” There was something about the way that Yana’s eyes seemed to scan him from head to toe -- something cold and clinical, as if he were being stripped. Not the fun sort of stripped either. The sort of stripped that made you feel unpleasantly exposed. It didn’t help that Yana’s voice sounded vaguely acidic.

 

“Yeah. How’d you know that?”

 

“Ben told me quite a bit about you. He’s quite fond of you.” And if Poe didn’t know better, he could have sworn that Yana sounded a bit jealous. More than a bit, actually.

 

Add in the fact that he seemed to occasionally look at Ben like he wanted to eat him...

 

“He told you, huh?”

 

“Yes. In addition, your...fondness for the other is very obvious.” Now Yana’s eyes seemed to be too closely scrutinizing Poe, as if the evidence of his and Ben’s relationship stuck out all over him. It wasn’t like the time that Snap had talked about the two of them being “practically married” (and even that idea was enough to make Poe think, yes, the idea of marrying, maybe after the war, was not a terrible idea); it was judgmental, sharp, almost jealous, and Poe was already eager to change the subject. Maybe to something that he’d come here to talk about anyway.

 

“I’d like to come to one of Ben’s lessons.”

 

Yana tilted his head. “Indeed?”

 

“Ben’s showed me a few things,” and the words were already coming out too smoothly, too naturally. “And I’m interested to see what exactly these lessons entail.” And keep an eye on Ben as well. Make sure that Yana didn’t have to be reported to Master Skywalker for what he was doing.

 

_Like you could really have any sort of effect._

 

“And you want to make sure that Ben is safe? From your perspective?”

 

_Dammit._

 

Yana continued. “I don’t see the problem.”

 

“Ben’s been acting funny, is all.”

 

“It may be merely exhaustion,” said Yana. “He pushes himself quite hard in our training sessions. It’s quite impressive to see.”

 

 _Impressive,_ Poe thought. _At least in terms of how Ben seemed to push himself too hard. Yeah, appearing on my doorstep one night starving and exhausted is “impressive”. As is the look in his eyes when he comes back from those sessions. Like a fever._ He could only think of Ben’s face above him in the darkness of their living room, eyes glittering with possessive desire, a need to claim, to achieve, to have. Glittering dark eyes and a voice husky with need, a voice that seemed to make every syllable sound hungry. And he was already scared for him.

 

“Is it?” Poe said.

 

“It is. Perhaps you could drop by one of our training sessions and see for yourself. I don’t hurt Ben, if that’s what you wonder.”

 

 _Like hell you don’t,_ Poe thought. But he didn’t say it out loud.

 

“All right.” _Will you step into my parlor, said the krayt dragon to the gizka._ “Tonight, then?”

 

“Tonight...Poe Dameron.”

 

Even heading off home, Poe couldn’t help but feel as if he were walking into a trap. Still, to make sure that Ben was all right, he would do what he could. Even if it meant reporting something to Master Skywalker. After all, Master Skywalker cared about Ben. He would do what he could in order to help him.

 

As would Poe.

 

It was later that Ben sent him the message over the datapad. _We’re in the training center. Just go up to the Academy, take a left inside, and you’ll find it._

 

Poe typed back _Gotcha. Thanks_ and sent it.

 

It was later that he, BB-8 trailing cheerfully behind him, went up the path. The Academy grounds were empty tonight; it seemed that everyone had gone to bed. Poe entered the Academy, took a left, and that was when he saw the training center, an austere room with a sole console in it, several footlockers, and Ben, who was currently in the midst of sparring with Master Yana.

 

Poe’s mouth went dry. Ben...he hadn’t imagined that Ben could be so graceful dueling, yet he wove with a sort of extraordinary elegance and speed, matching each strike with precision. And Ben thought he wasn’t enough? He moved so beautifully...

 

Ben obviously sensed him because he deactivated his lightsaber, as did Yana, and ran to him, scooping him into his arms. Poe buried his face in his shoulder, still overwhelmed by Ben’s show of affection, how he could act as if Poe were indescribably precious.

 

By now, Yana’s earlier fake-affability had escalated into a sort of irritation, as far as Poe was concerned. Ben lowered Poe to the ground, still grinning brilliantly. “Didn’t expect you to stop by,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

 

“Well,” Poe said, “You kept telling me about your lessons. Thought I’d stop by and see how they were going. I admit I am new to this, so can you tell me what they’re about?”

 

“Mostly lightsaber combat and the Force. They’re extra lessons. I was sparring with Master Yana when you came in.”

 

 _Sparring._ That’s what Ben called it. And yet sparring shouldn’t look so much like a dance...

 

“Can I...see a session in its entirety?” And Poe wasn’t going to lie, there was something about the idea that really was truly electrifying. If Ben was this full of grace in a snippet of a fight, imagine how graceful he would be in a full fight...

 

“Of course,” Yana said. “Shall we begin, Ben?”

 

“Let’s,” Ben said.

 

He turned to Poe, and with a cocky grin, shed his robe slowly. Everything about it seemed almost torturous, how Ben shrugged it off slowly to make it seem like it fell off him too easily, and even under the robes he wore Poe could see the fine lines of his slim, muscled body. A roll up of the sleeves of his tunic, and Poe could see his slender yet muscular arms, shapely, almost sculpted. He could remember the night that Ben came to him with wounds on his arms and how one of the more pleasurable aspects of the night, besides massaging Ben’s shoulders

 

_and how unfair the tunic really was, a tease, hiding the rest of Ben’s body, the strong muscled back like a predator’s and slim legs to name two_

 

was putting the bacta on Ben’s arms and feeling muscle beneath, how muscular and tight they were.

 

 _You like what you see?_ Ben’s voice, amused, in his mind.

 

 _Stars, yes. So much._ Poe exhaled, feeling a sort of impatience, a sort of hunger for what came next. _I always like what I see, Ben. You’re gorgeous, always. Stars give me strength you’re so beautiful._

 

“If I may,” Yana said, and a part of Poe already wanted to kill him. “Today’s lesson, we have been learning to fight against double-bladed lightsabers. The twin blades are more difficult to master, but are formidable once you do master them.”

 

Poe could only imagine. And it would be quite a fright to your enemies, seeing twin blades coming straight at you.

 

“Ben’s been practicing,” said Yana. “Considering your...interest in his lessons, I thought that I would give you a glimpse at what usually goes on.”

 

He walked towards the console, pushed some buttons, and a hologram of a Dark Jedi appeared, masked, probably one of those Dark Jedi from old Republic books that he and Ben had read together.

 

Ben stepped forward in that moment, tall, muscular, slender, a duelist stepping into one of the arenas of old. Poe watched, riveted, his eyes focused on Ben’s shoulders, his straight back, the tension in his body that suggested there was a lot to worry about, to take in. Poe sent him a reassuring grin, and Ben turned to look at him with another smile, a sort of smile that looked beautiful and reassuring amidst his nervousness. Like it lit up his whole face.

 

Then the Dark Jedi recreation ignited her lightsaber -- one end, then the other. Ben ignited his.

 

Ben fought.

 

More specifically, dear stars he moved like a dancer, spinning his lightsaber to catch each blow, blue against the holographic turquoise of the double-bladed lightsaber. Blue, turquoise, real, holographic, back and forth, managing to leap out of the way of the spinning blades -- he was getting, to make a long story short, _good_ at this.

 

And all the while, Poe could not help but be in awe, just watching. Ben’s body, muscular and large and yet so graceful, against the hologram. His lips parted, the holographic sparks flying around him, and Poe could not help but feel his own mouth flood with moisture just seeing those muscular arms. He loved those arms, loved those muscles, loved how such a powerful, strong body could be filled with so much grace.

 

He swallowed. He had to pay attention to Ben’s movements -- and oh, he was enjoying this. He was enjoying just watching him spar, watching his hair get messy and tangled, his skin getting sweaty.

 

He turned to look at Yana, briefly, who watched Ben with a sort of pride in his eyes -- the sort that a teacher had for a student mastering a concept, or a painter for his masterpiece. And Ben was art, he truly was, his body moving with such a lithe, extraordinary grace.

 

He continued to spin, to dance in his way, and Poe leaned forward in his seat, swallowing. _Stars, he’s beautiful._ It wasn't the first time he thought it, but it struck him most powerfully even looking over Ben, shaggy haired, gorgeous Ben, his body like a dancer’s.

 

The holographic imitation was precise all the while, trying to catch Ben even as the latter moved and leapt away and brought his lightsaber down to meet every stroke. Poe’s body trembled, and he watched even as Ben performed every move almost flawlessly.

 

Ben brought his lightsaber down in a cleaving motion, the holographic lightsaber snapped in half, and the hologram ended. Poe swallowed again; he was already still trying to regain himself after what he’d seen. Ben turned towards him, gave him a sort of smirk because Poe could tell, Poe could tell what sorts of things Ben did to him just by the way he moved. The way he moved...

 

“He is a good student, isn’t he, Poe Dameron?” Yana’s voice.

 

Poe took a deep breath, forcing himself to come back to the present. _Think think think down Poe down don’t think of Ben don’t think of that graceful, beautiful body think of anything else there’s Alderaan and Dantooine and Jakku and Coruscant and Telos and Master Naris in a dancing outfit --_

 

_Thank you for inflicting that on my psyche, Poe._

 

Poe could have cursed. He’d almost forgotten about Ben’s presence in his mind, about the bond. _Sorry._

 

Ben’s lips were twitching, however, so Poe could only assume that he was forgiven for that.

 

“Well?” Master Yana said. “What say you?”

 

“He’s good,” Poe said. “He really is.” He swallowed, trying to control these emotions that were surging in him, this awe and this need that Ben had a talent for stirring in him. Ben was talented, Ben was powerful -- how could he not see that?

 

“Indeed he is.”

 

“I better get to bed,” Poe said. “Ben and I have stuff to do tomorrow. It was, ah, interesting seeing this.”

 

“Indeed. Goodnight, Poe Dameron.”

 

“Goodnight, Master Yana,” Poe said.

 

They headed out, and Poe turned to look at Ben. “My room,” he said, “After dinner. Dear stars, you looked gorgeous back there. So beautiful, so graceful.”

 

“Did I?” Ben’s cheeks seemed to color, though definitely not unpleasantly. “I did try.”

 

“You’re good at distracting me.”

 

“Dinner first. And then...well, you can afford to get more distracted.” Ben’s voice was practically a purr, and Poe wondered if he had any idea sometimes as to what he _did_ to Poe.

 

“I can’t wait,” Poe said.

 

“Patience, my pilot.” A decidedly playful edge, an almost crooked smirk. “Everything in its good time.” And by the stars, Ben was getting good at this now. Poe could still remember when their first attempt at this had resulted in Ben breaking into a fit of laughter and apologies and saying, “I’m just not good at this, Poe.” But he was getting better.

 

 _I’ve taught him well._ There was something about seeing some of your old techniques you used on your lover (whose Order wouldn’t recognize sexual if it did a striptease in front of them) getting used back on you that was enough to send pleasant shivers through Poe.

 

It was after dinner, when they were both full (and Poe loved the dinners too, the easy camaraderie, the feeling of Ben’s arms about his waist even as they cooked, and afterwards, just eating with Ben) that they headed upstairs. A quick goodnight to BB-8, and they headed towards the room they shared and closed the door. And they were alone, the lights low, and Ben’s gaze practically predatory.

 

“So,” he said, his voice practically a purr, “What did you mean by being distracted?”

 

 


	44. Chapter 43: Resurgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes head off to Moriband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Ben awoke to the light streaming in through the window, and a warm weight on his chest in the form of Poe. They were still sticky, still sweaty from their lovemaking, and yet Ben doubted that he had felt this sated and at peace in some time. He doubted that Poe had ever felt this peaceful either. He doubted that either of them had. He was still worn from the practice session, and yet he, foolishly, felt a sort of safety he hadn’t felt in some time. 

 

Poe stirred on his chest, looking so damnably peaceful that Ben’s heart felt as if it were melting. “Mornin’,” he said, all but dreamily. 

 

“Morning.” Ben yawned. “How’d you sleep?”

 

“Better than I have in a long time.” Poe sighed. “I don’t remember the last time I slept without nightmares.”

 

“Poe...”

 

“It’s fine. I guess it’s normal.”

 

“You shouldn't have nightmares.”

 

“It happens a lot,” Poe said. “It’s usually stuff like the battles I’ve been in. If I’ve done the right thing or not.”

 

“You did.”

 

“I hope so.”

 

“You’re a good person, Poe. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, let alone yourself.”

 

“You’re too good to me, Ben.”

 

“It’s true. And I want you to be happy.”

 

“Ben.  _ Ben.  _ I am happy. I’m with you.” A hand trailed down Ben’s cheek, tender, soft. The hand caressed his cheekbone before moving down to his jawline. “I  _ love  _ you. And it’s here that I’m happy.”

 

Ben swallowed. “You just seem really worried about me.”

 

“I know. But it’s because I love you and want you to be safe.”

 

“You really do mean -- ’’

 

“ ‘Course I do.” 

 

_ Never doubt that I love you,  _ the unspoken message was, and something in Ben he didn’t even realize was tense suddenly loosened. 

 

“I love you too.” 

 

They sat together for a long while, savoring how still the morning was. Poe hummed softly, laying his head on Ben’s shoulder. “We still have time, right?”

 

“We have a while before we go in,” Ben said. “We’ve got plenty of time.”  _ Plenty of time before whatever mission we have to go on this time. We’re safe. We’re warm. I love him.  _

 

“Oh, excellent. What do you think we should do?”

 

“We need a shower,” Ben said. “Both of us.”

 

Poe’s grin in that moment was practically radiant, and he looked -- stars he looked so beautiful, Ben thought.  _ Please, don’t let his light go out, ever.  _

 

They headed towards the sonic shower, and Ben could still feel how sticky he was, how sweaty, how grungy he was just from last night, yet Poe was still close to him, as if it would take a lot of effort to keep his hand from Ben’s waist. He turned the sonic shower on and after fiddling to get it just right, they both climbed in. And it was in the process they found that there was something enjoyable about the shower too, and making love there. 

 

By the time they were both done, they were soaking wet, and drying off, Poe rubbing at his hair and his body. Ben patted himself dry and they dressed, combed their hair, and went down to breakfast. 

 

There was always something about meals together that were special for Ben. The times when he got to cook with Poe and cradle his pilot to his chest, laugh with him, talk with him, listen to him, and of course, eating with Poe, enjoying the results while they temporarily shut out the world outside. Of course, it was only temporary. Heading out to the path, Ben was reminded too well of the fact Poe would have to go flying again. 

 

Poe would have to go flying again, and deal with the consequences of more killing. The truth of the matter was that war wasn’t pleasant and it wasn’t right, not in the slightest. Matthew Travis had acted like people like Poe enjoyed killing (and Ben had written a rebuttal to one of his pieces of “journalism” in detail), but Ben knew that Poe didn’t. Neither did anyone else, actually. 

 

“I guess we’re heading off again,” Poe said, looking in resignation towards where the hangar bay was. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I just can’t wait until it’s over.”

 

“It will end. And if not...I’ll take you away from here. Someplace where you can see the sky. Where we can go flying together.”

 

“Together, huh?” Poe smiled up at him. “Sounds good.”

 

“It does, doesn’t it?” Ben could picture that endless sort of blue surrounding him and Poe as they soared through the sky, or above them as they lay on the grass together, snuggling on their backs. 

 

Anything just to make Poe happy. Just to keep him safe. 

 

Poe checked his chrono just then. “I better get going,” he said. “Jess and the others will probably be wondering where I’ve been.”

 

Ben kissed him, long and lingering. “See you later.”

 

“Yeah. See you later.”

 

Ben headed up the path towards the Academy just then, and towards the antechamber where the other Jedi were meeting. He entered the antechamber, and the other Jedi looked over at him, some of them murmuring softly about him. He wondered if, in a way, his affair with Poe stood out all over him.  _ Ben Solo, the one with an attachment.  _ Attachments still seemed to be split down the middle in the Jedi Order, some people seeming to be in favor of them, others not as much. He knew that Master Naris and Master Mei didn’t approve, Master Naris especially.  _ To think they even share a house, share a room -- _

 

Ben didn’t say anything out loud, of course. But he already wished that he could tell Master Naris how much of a fool he was. What, after all, was so wrong and so evil about two beings who loved each other? 

 

Then again, Master Naris --

 

Well, that was unfair. He had his Padawan. But it was like after that, he’d become some sort of bitter, vicious little son of a schutta. What was he like before?

 

“You’re late.” Mike’s voice, but it was good-natured. 

 

“Sorry,” Ben said. “What did I miss?”

 

“Lisaris has been spotted.”

 

_ Lisaris. How did I not sense... _

 

“Where?”

 

“Moriband,” Mike said. “Master Skywalker’s sending us out on a mission to capture him right now.”

 

_ Knowing that man, he’ll never see the inside of a prison cell. Maybe maximum security...maybe... _

 

Even the idea of killing him was enough to repulse Ben. It wasn’t as if he liked Lisaris. But was killing him the Jedi way? 

 

_ It would be better than just letting him go all over again. _

 

***

Poe headed towards the hangar with BB-8 in tow, his body satisfied beyond belief, his mind buzzing. It was the first time in a while he had actually felt like this, actually. 

 

It had been the first time he had actually felt like the fever from Ben had actually vanished, just for a moment. 

 

He didn’t doubt that Ben loved him. He didn’t doubt the sheer depth and amount of his Jedi’s devotion, his adoration. An embrace here, a kiss here, a caress here, a loving word here, the way Ben looked at him -- there had been beings who expressed attraction but they hadn’t loved him as intensely and completely as Ben did, and even going to the hangar was enough to make Poe wish they didn’t have missions and could just stay as long as they wanted and hold each other as long as they wanted. 

 

And he just wished that they could have more moments like last night and this morning. More moments where his Jedi, his beautiful Jedi, wasn’t pushing himself so hard, and they were both happy together. Where Poe didn’t have to worry about him. 

 

He could still remember what he said to Ben earlier.  _ I am happy. I’m with you.  _ And it was true. Ben did make him happy, and Poe loved him. Poe only wished that there was a way to snap him out of the haze that he was in. 

 

Madine looked over at Poe even as he headed inside the meeting room. “You’re late,” he said. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Poe said. 

 

“No problem. Just take your seat.”

 

Poe did. Even as Madine continued to outline the matter of where Lisaris had been spotted (again? Were they just going to be running in circles until they found Lisaris?) Poe listened intently. He listened to where they were going, and already felt a chill go up his spine. Moriband was the sort of place that young Jedi talked about around the campfire to scare each other. He could remember Ben, when he was a child, talking about the stories that he’d heard about Moriband from Thomas and Annie. And now it looked like they were going there.

 

Funny how things could change in a matter of years or so. 

 

What he did know was that if he could end the war, find any way to end it, Poe Dameron would do anything. 


	45. Chapter 44: The Fight Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes find Lisaris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

When Ben Solo was only a youngling, Moraband used to be the sort of stuff that Jedi told campfire stories about. Stories about the hsiss that roamed its surface, invisible reptiles searching for those who dared disturb the dead, the tombs that held horrifying traps for those who trespassed, and plenty more that would make him unable to sleep that night around Festival of the Dead. Apparently, however, you had to confront your monsters at one point. 

 

Even disembarking from the ship, Ben coughed, waving his hand in front of his face to ward off the dust. “Okay,” he said to Annie, “Any idea as to where Lisaris might have gone?”

 

“Well, that depends,” Annie said. “I mean, if I were a murdering psychopath, I’d prefer not to get caught...”

 

“I guess the best way to find out is to start reaching.”

 

Ben reached through the Force just then, concentrating as hard as he possibly could, and it was in the cave that he could feel Lisaris. Boiling hot, almost too sensitive to the touch. Like the Jakku suns...

 

“He’s here,” Ben said. “In the cave.” He sighed. “We’re going to have to be careful. There’s a possibility he came prepared.”

 

The cave itself -- Ben doubted he had ever come across something that smelled more foul. He pinched his nose, all but gagging on the stench. “What  _ is that? _ ”

 

Poe shrugged. “I have no idea. Someone must have backed up a fresher in there.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t think backed up freshers smell that bad...” Ben coughed. “We’re going to need breath masks just to get through it.”

 

“Good plan.”

 

And putting on the breath masks was a relief. It felt, for a moment, like Ben could breathe again. 

 

“Yeah, that cave doesn’t exactly smell like Naboo, does it?” Snap said. 

 

“You’re telling me,” Ben said. More than just the stench of the cave, which was overwhelmingly awful, there was the matter of just how lonely it seemed, just how eerie it seemed. “It’s eerie in here.”

 

“Eerie and smells like a backed-up fresher. I’ll say that.”

 

They continued through the cave, where the skeletons of what Ben could only assume were Sith assassins lay on the cave floor. Those were from the days of the Old Republic. Back during the first Purge. Even exploring the cave, there was something about it that made Ben feel as if he were exploring ancient history. 

 

There were shyrack that popped up, of course, shyrack that already nipped at them even as they proceeded through the cave. Even cutting them down, forging a path through to the cave, Ben knew just by the blast of heat through the Force that Lisaris was up ahead. 

 

“Be careful,” he said. 

 

A shrug from Snap. “You don’t have to tell us twice.”

 

It was too quiet as they headed up along towards Ludo Kressh’s tomb. Not even so much a sound from the tu’kata who were currently sleeping, or the shyrack, who seemed to have gone away for the moment. 

 

It was too empty, Ben thought. Too quiet. 

 

Empty except for Lisaris, of course, even as they headed towards the bridge that would lead to Ludo Kressh’s tomb. His presence became stronger, hotter, like the Jakku sun beating down on Ben’s back, and there was confidence in there, a certainty in his purpose.

 

Lisaris stood there, on the bridge near the tomb, lightsaber drawn, and Ben knew, somehow, that this was their last battlefield. 


	46. Chapter 45: Good Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben and Lisaris fight. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“Ben Solo,” said Lisaris. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  
“So have we. I prefer to do this with a minimum of unpleasantness, Lisaris,” Ben said, stepping forward even as he spoke. “Surrender and come back with us and we can avoid confrontation.”

  
“You think that I’ll come back with you, Jedi? You’re wrong.”

  
“Looks like we’ll have to do this the hard way then.”

  
Ben ignited his lightsaber and the battle began. This time, he could anticipate Lisaris’ movements, every swipe. Blaster bolts flew through the air, and Ben continued to drive Lisaris onwards, even as their lightsabers sizzled and crackled against each other with pressing force.

  
“Would you look at that?” Lisaris said. “You’ve gotten better.”

  
“I’ve practiced.” Blue against red, red against blue, driving one another down the bridge, very narrowly teetering at the very edge of it.

  
“I can sense it.” Lisaris said. “Your feelings betray you.”

  
“Do they?”

  
Blue and red continued to clash. The flash in the cave practically illuminated the inside, illuminated Ben’s face as well as Lisaris’ mask.

  
Lisaris spoke. “I have to wonder, Ben -- you have such anger, such hate, and yet you don't use it. You hold yourself back.”

  
Ben said nothing. He knew Lisaris was trying to get a rise out of him.

  
“It’s no wonder that you’re defeated century after century. The strong are to rule if we are to survive. And you...you’re cowardly. You’re weak.”

  
“You really want to bet on that?” Ben said.  
Their lightsabers practically sizzled against one another, drawing sparks. Blaster bolts rang through the air, flying at Lisaris, who caught one of them with his lightsaber --

  
\-- just in time for Ben’s lightsaber to go through his remaining flesh hand. It fell, taking Lisaris’ lightsaber with it.

Lisaris looked up at him, and though Ben couldn’t read his expression behind the mask, he could tell that Lisaris was in shock.

  
“It’s over, Lisaris,” Ben said. “Come with us, and we may yet show you mercy.”

  
Lisaris laughed. It sounded like crackling flames. “Just like I thought. You’re weak. Well, I’ll be damned if I’m going anywhere with you, Jedi. Not this time.”

  
Ben’s hands went to his throat just then. Spots appeared at the corners of his vision even as he tried, vainly, to wrench invisible hands off his throat.

_They’re on me they’re on me and there’s no air there’s no air_ \--

  
A bang, and Lisaris’ grip loosened on Ben. Lisaris was already doubled over, his side bleeding, and Poe stood there, hand on the blaster. Ben rubbed his throat gingerly before turning towards Lisaris and freezing him.

  
“We’ll get him to a medic first,” he said. “And then we’ll get him back to his cell.”

  
“Good plan,” Poe said. “Ben...are you all right?”

  
“Fine.” His throat still felt the invisible marks of the Force Choke. In the end, however, they weren’t anything that he couldn’t handle.

“Come on. Let’s leave Moraband behind.”

  
A resounding murmur of agreement went up from the group.

  
It was long after they contacted and got a medical frigate that they blasted off and left Moraband behind. Ben couldn't say he was going to miss the planet, with its dank, filthy cave and strange grounds, or anything like that.

He just hoped this was the end of their dealings with Lisaris.


	47. Chapter 46: Contemplations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Poe takes in the fact that holy crap, Ben nearly died back there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The flight back to Coruscant was slow, relatively uneventful, and yet there was something about Lisaris’ presence there that was still enough to unsettle Ben. He was sedated, thankfully, and he was asleep, but at the same time, Ben couldn’t help but wonder when he was going to wake up. It wasn’t as if he had his lightsaber anymore; it was gone. But at the same time, Ben knew that even without his lightsaber, he was a threat, and a tremendous one.

 

Poe, meanwhile, was quiet, uncharacteristically so, and stealing the occasional nervous glance over at Ben, as if he couldn’t believe he was still alive.

 

_if that bastard had come any closer to killing Ben_

 

_no don’t think about that dear stars don’t if he’d died, if he’d died_

 

He squeezed Poe’s hand. _I’m here. I’m alive._

 

Poe looked up at him, smiled despite himself, and Ben smiled back.

 

Next to them, Snap and Jess were currently playing sabaac, Snap trying too hard to keep a good sabaac face. Annie was engrossed in a holobook, and the others seemed to be asleep as they progressed through hyperspace.

 

It was then that Poe said, “Ben...how’s your neck?”

 

“It’s doing better,” Ben said. “Could be a lot worse, actually.”

 

Poe sighed. “I was being serious, Ben.”

 

“So was I.”

 

Silence fell. Then Ben said, “Poe...do you want to go someplace where we can talk?”

 

“Yeah.” And Ben knew that Poe knew exactly what he was talking about. It was one of those traits that was only amplified by having a bond like this.

 

Ben turned to Snap. “We might need some privacy.”

  
“So if you’re going, go,” Snap said. “We don’t need a status report.”  
  
Ben sighed good-naturedly before he and Poe went into the room in the back, far from where Lisaris was. Ben still wanted to give Lisaris as wide a berth as possible, even if he was currently sedated and had the same Force-suppressing cuffs on him that he used on Ben. The cuffs. Ben had a feeling that he would never stop being uneasy just seeing them. Even though they weren’t on his wrists this time. Even though they were off his wrists this time, on someone else’s.   
  
“You okay?” Poe said.   
  
“Yeah. Those cuffs still freak me out.” Ben ran a hand through his hair. “I know they’re not on me, but...”  
  
“But what?”  
  
“They just remind me of too many things.” Not being able to save you. Lisaris, taunting me to strike him down. Things like that.   
  
Poe’s hand slipped over his. “It’s all right. It’s not happening right now. It’s all right.”  
  
“I know.” Ben exhaled. “They still freak me out.”  
  
They sat close together, feeling the warmth of their bodies, and Ben could feel Poe’s thoughts, almost a shout inside his mind. _Nearly lost you thought he was going to kill you nearly lost you --_  
  
“Hey.” Tenderly, he took both Poe’s hands in his. “You didn't lose me.”  
  
“I nearly did.” Poe’s voice cracked. “When he was choking you, I actually thought he was going to kill you. I couldn't bear it.”  
  
“I’m here. I’m all right.”  
  
“I know. It’s just...stang, if I lost you...”  
  
Ben drew him in towards him, letting Poe rest his head on his chest. “You won’t lose me,” he said. “You’ll never, ever lose me.”   
  
They held one another close in that moment, sheltering one another for the time being from the cold outside, from the war raging outside. And Ben was suddenly keenly aware of how fragile they both were, how they could be torn away from one another in an instant. Looking down at Poe, he could only hope that no matter what happened, he could keep Poe from the worst of all of this. _If you’re hurt, run to me. I’ll hold you. If you’re in pain, I’ll soothe you. If you need me, I’ll protect you._   
  
A hum in his arms. _I know. And I’ll do what I can to save you._

 

They held each other, and it was like this place was their own sanctuary, just for the moment, shielding them from the harsh galaxy outside.


	48. Chapter 47: One Big Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Poe proposes to Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Snoke would have been lying if he said he was far from surprised by the outcome of Ben and Lisaris’ duel.

  
Ben’s ascension to ultimately become Master of the Knights was coming soon. Snoke could feel it. It seemed to only be momentarily sabotaged by the fact that Ben had shown mercy.

  
Actually, in a way, perhaps Snoke should not have been surprised after all, because Ben was hypermoral to the last. Of course he would ultimately spare Lisaris’ life. He was so very dedicated to being a good Jedi, as if he had something to prove. As if he could prove that he was, indeed, good enough.

Snoke had been that way too, once upon a time. But he was older now. Substantially older. He could feel it too well in his bones. He was an old man -- by human standards he had long to live yet. But by Milaran standards, he was near the end of his lifespan.

  
He didn’t just need someone who could be Master of the Knights of Ren. He needed someone who would be Supreme Leader, and guide the First Order well. It certainly couldn’t be General Hux -- the man was power-hungry and cared nothing for balance. He saw himself as the only one worthy of being Emperor -- not Supreme Leader, but Emperor.

  
_Emperor_. Of all the supreme instances of arrogance...Hux would be akin to Sarlis the Tyrant for even thinking about such things.

  
Ben, of course, would be the best candidate for Snoke’s successor. It only made sense. The apprentice succeeded the Master.  
The problem was that there was too much mercy in him. Too much gentleness. It could be moving, but it could also be frustrating and bewildering.

  
After all, what sorts of things had mercy ever done for Milara when the war had been going on?

Mercy was a weakness. Mercy was a sickness. Snoke had learned that much on the battlefield. The Echani had once said that battle was the purest form of expression. Snoke knew that battle was the purest form of teaching. Mercy wouldn’t save you when you were being shot at, when blaster bolts were flying through the air and you had to bat them away. Mercy wouldn’t save you when the soldiers on your left were ready to kill you, or when they hunted you as a youngling as you hid well out of sight.

  
Mercy was vulnerability, and Snoke could never have that.

  
Still, the matter of Ben’s mercy was far from unfixable. Snoke could still teach him. There was always, after all, much to learn.

  
There was always, after all, much to understand.

 

  
***

 

  
They had managed to treat Lisaris before imprisoning him, this time in a maximum security prison. Of course that was the best solution -- hire more guards. Naturally. They’d at least added ysalamiri to Lisaris’ captivity, which apparently made it more unlikely that Lisaris was going to escape. So there was that.

  
Lisaris was going to have one hell of a time getting out of jail this time around. Poe could at least feel comfortable with that.

  
What he was still struck by was the fact that Ben had nearly died back there. He could still remember how it looked like invisible hands closing over Ben’s throat --

  
He had been so close to losing Ben thanks to that bastard. Being without Ben...would it have been like in the cheesy songs? It probably would have. What would have likely caused eye-rolling in others would have rang too true for Poe. Being without Ben was something Poe doubted he could even fathom.

He had been considering the idea of marrying Ben. Even Snap’s remarks about them being “good as married” had filled Poe with a sort of pleasure thinking about it. He and Ben, married. Calling Ben not just his boyfriend or lover, but his husband. Calling himself Ben’s husband as well. Starting a family of their own. All those things. And though he had been tossing it about in his mind, this instance brought it to the forefront. Their lives were too short, too precious. And if Poe could do anything now before it was too late, it would be to spend the rest of his likely-short life with Ben. Not just as a lover, but as a husband. Raise a family with him. Or even if they didn’t, just love him. Kiss him in the mornings, feel his arms around his waist while they made breakfast. Laugh with him. Know that they were bonded, in the way two married men could be.

  
Which was why Poe was in the ring shop right now. So far, Poe was already deliberating the matter of the red ring vs the silver one. The red one...would Ben like it? Poe knew he wanted something special. Something that would encapsulate just how much Ben meant to him, how much Poe loved him.

  
“Are you looking for something, sir?” The clerk, a pretty young woman who looked about eighteen or so, looked over at Poe.

  
“Um, yeah. Are there any...are there any good wedding rings I can look at?”

  
“Right this way, sir.”

  
After narrowing it down to the fact that yes, it was for a boyfriend, Poe found the ring he was looking for. A simple silver band with intricate artistic carvings on the outside, gleaming in the light of the store. It was beautiful and Poe could only hope that it was enough for Ben.

  
“I like that one,” he said. "Thank you."

  
Poe paid for the ring and the box before heading back home, the ring in the box in his pocket.

  
***

  
It was after dinner that the anxious feelings already streaming off Poe became stronger. Dinner itself was wonderful, maybe a bit richer than usual, not that Ben was complaining. But Ben could feel the anxiety radiating off Poe. Not entirely bad anxiety -- it was the sort of anxiety that had a tinge of excitement to it as well.

  
Poe knelt before Ben on one knee before getting out the box, and Ben already knew what was coming. He knew, and yet he wanted to hear Poe say it out loud.

  
“The day you nearly died, I realized just how short and precious our lives really are,” Poe said. “I did toss around the concept on occasion, but I didn’t think about it until now. I love you, Ben. I adore you. And I know there is no one else I would rather spend the rest of my days with. I love you with all I am. Will you marry me?”

  
The words hit like a sudden series of blaster bolts. _Marry_. Already, Ben could picture it -- rings, ceremonies, being bonded in a way that ran as deep as the link they shared. And all from someone who meant the galaxy to him. He did. Ben loved him so completely that he would do anything to make him happy, to make him safe.

  
Ben knelt beside him, kissed him. The taste of Poe’s lips was sweet, velvety, and even drawing away, Ben had a feeling that that was the taste he would always associate with that day, the day of Poe’s proposal.

  
“Yes,” he said. “I will.”

  
They stood up. Poe embraced him just then, burying his head in Ben’s chest. Ben hugged him back, and spun around just then, Poe in his arms, causing the latter to laugh in delight.

  
Finally, Ben lowered him to the ground.

  
“Poe,” he said, “To be your husband...there is no greater honor.”

  
Poe grinned at him before taking out the ring. “It took a while to find the right one,” he said, “But I thought it would work -- ’’

  
“It’s beautiful,” Ben said. And it was the truth. The fine carvings on the outside of the silver band, the band itself...it was a simple band, but beautiful. Because it was theirs. Their band. Bonded in mind, bonded in marriage. He slipped the ring on his finger, feeling its coolness against the skin, and he took in the knowledge that they were now engaged.

  
_Engaged_. Bonded as deeply as the link that ran between them. And Ben knew that though the ceremony that would unite them was yet to come, he and Poe were good as united, right here, right now, in this room.

 


	49. Chapter 48: No Matter What

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben and Leia have a falling out, and the wedding gets underway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Regarding the portrayal of Leia in this chapter, let's just say that Ben's really misunderstanding her a lot. There's a massive communication gap between the two as big as the Grand Canyon, which may account for their argument here.

There were a myriad of responses when Ben and Poe contacted the others to tell them the good news, from Snap’s “About damn time” to Dad’s brief look of worry

 

_ like he was worried that Ben would make the same mistakes he and Mom did _

 

that quickly arranged itself into a grin to Jess hugging Poe and more, but the one that Ben wasn’t looking forward to was his mother’s. 

 

It didn’t help that lately, calls to Mom might as well have been an invitation to leave yourself vulnerable, to leave yourself open for scrutiny. That didn’t help at all. 

 

Still, Ben thought, it was best that he got it over and done with. He sat back, waiting for his mother’s face to appear on the terminal screen. 

 

When it finally did, she was dressed in her usual Senatorial regalia. “Ben,” she said. “What an unexpected surprise. It’s good to see you.”

 

“You too. I thought I’d tell you something.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Mom,” Ben said. “Poe and I are engaged.”

 

There was something about the silence between them that could have been a duracrete wall. Ben’s smile faded away even as he took in his mother’s expression. “You don't approve?”

 

“Ben, you’ve only known each other -- ’’

 

“Since we were kids.” Ben said. “It’s not like I’m eloping with a complete stranger.”

 

“I meant  _ romantically.  _ Neither one of you are stable.”

 

“ _ Stable? _ ” Ben said. “Stable?”

 

_ You have no idea what it’s like, do you? Just comforting him after nightmares, comforting him after a certain noise sets him off, or anything like that. And he’s not unstable. He’s traumatized.  _ But Ben didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he said, “You have no idea what Poe’s going through. You probably have as much of an idea as Matthew Travis.”

 

That, at least, got a flinch out of his mother. She had never thought highly of Travis, not since he had once published an article accusing Uncle Luke of being, in his words, “a mass-murdering terrorist with a messiah complex” and said less-than-flattering words regarding her and Dad as well. 

 

“How  _ dare you? _ ” she said. 

 

“How else am I supposed to even interpret this?” Ben said. “You called him unstable. Just because of what he was experiencing. Maybe we can’t all just pretend that everything’s fine and nothing’s wrong. Maybe we’re not like you, or Uncle Luke, or anyone like that.”

 

“This affair you’re having is purely physical -- ’’

 

“Sure,” Ben snapped. “I really am that shallow. So’s Poe.” 

 

“I meant regarding you coping with Thomas -- ’’

 

“Even if I was grieving for him, what of it?”

 

“You’re letting it fester in you, and you’re coping with it just by using Poe -- ’’

 

“Using?” Did his mother think that Poe was just a body to him? Just a warm body to be exploited? “Maybe the Jedi can do that, but not me.”

 

His mother’s eyebrows could have disappeared into her hairline. Then, “How can you talk about the Order like that?”

 

“It’s the truth.”

 

“I sent you there to protect you -- ’’

 

“ _ That’s  _ what you call it?” 

 

_ As opposed to abandoning me. Let’s be perfectly honest, you didn’t want me. You never did.  _

 

“I did!” Mom said. “And here you are, disobeying everything that you were taught -- ’’

 

“Because I’m getting married?” Ben said. “Funny you didn’t react that way when Uncle Luke was married. In fact, you were happy for him. Is this a case of me being the exception again, Mom, or is it because Poe’s a -- ?”

 

“Do you really think I’d be worried about that?”

 

“So I’m just the exception again. As usual. I can’t think of a portion in my life where I wasn’t somehow the exception. Never my own person, just the exception. Well, I’m done with that. And when this war’s over, we’re both leaving. We’re going away from you, away from the Republic, away from everyone.”

 

_ Just to keep Poe safe. So he can be happy. So we can both be happy.  _

 

For a moment, he swore something flickered in his mother’s eyes. Then, “You really are just like Vader, Ben. In every conceivable way.”

 

The commcall ended there. Ben drew away, gasping for breath, forcing himself to be calm.  _ It’s okay. You’re okay.  _ But it wasn’t okay, it simply wasn’t, he had likely irreparably damaged things with his mother --

 

_ You can’t lose nothing from nothing.  _ A nastier voice in his mind.  _ You can’t lose nothing from little either.  _

 

_ No. It might not be like that at all. Maybe she’s just worried about you.  _

 

_ Well, isn’t she just about always worried about me?  _

 

_ She’s your mother.  _

 

_ But most mothers don’t seem to act like their sons are live hand grenades.  _ In his mind, he could remember what Naris had said. How he was like a minefield. Ben Solo, age twenty-two, but he’s not a sentient being my friends, he’s just a living minefield --

 

Would it be too much to just be Ben Solo? No expectations, nothing like that? 

 

And Poe...

 

_ Maybe we can run away together. To a land where I won’t have to worry about you, where you won’t have to drink warm blue milk to help you sleep, where the Matthew Travises of the galaxy can’t reach you, can’t hurt you. Where I would lie with you in the grass, hold you in my arms as we looked up at the sky. Blue skies and nights free of nightmares. Where we can be safe, my love, and no one can hurt you again.  _

 

It was in the sparring center that Ben didn’t think, just slashed up the training sacks, letting them fall to the floor, shouting in rage, and more than that, shouting in the sort of frustration that one had to be driven to, until they were ruins. Ben stood over those ruins, panting. 

 

“Is all well, Ben?”

 

Yana. And something about Yana’s voice was calming, soothing. 

 

Ben nodded. “Just working off some steam.”

 

“I see.”

 

Even putting the scraps away, Ben was glad that Poe wasn’t there to see or feel his outburst. He supposed he hadn’t really  _ hurt  _ the sacks, they couldn’t feel pain, but Poe would have been scared seeing it, he could only imagine, and scaring Poe was the last thing he wanted. Poe, who always seemed the shorter and more delicate of the pair despite being older. Poe, sweet and gentle and seeing the good in everyone. Poe, who always seemed so fragile in Ben’s arms despite the fact that he was such a good fighter and pilot -- a seeming fragility that belied his strength. 

 

_ Once we’re married I’d take such good care of him. I’d love him.  _

 

“You’re...quite besotted with this pilot.” Yana said. 

 

“His name’s Poe.”

 

“Either way, you seem quite besotted with him. Why?”

 

“He’s a good person.”  _ Funny. Kind. Loving. Tender. A phenomenal pilot. Brave. Selfless. Damnably beautiful, in every way. Idealistic, seeing the good in others.  _ “Am I that obvious?”

 

“I could tell from the way you spoke of him, the way you looked at him. I could tell from the way you blasted Matthew Travis for calling him a murderer, although that could also be because the man never should have become a journalist.”

 

“No. He shouldn’t have.” But there had been that impression of  _ he hurt my love, he told lies about my love, I have to do something about it  _ in there. 

 

“So your...besotted nature was as obvious as a Holonet banner.”

 

“Yeah.”  _ I love him. I love him so much. He’s perfect, precious. Are you going to question it any further, Master Yana? _

 

“The question is if he’ll catch you when you fall.”

 

“He will. I just know it.”  _ Because he’s Poe Dameron, and he would never abandon anyone who needed him.  _

 

The door opened, and Poe entered. “Ben,” he said, softly. “Are you okay?”

 

“Master Yana and I were talking.”

 

“Got it. What about?”

 

“I didn't...well, first, Master Yana, Poe and I are just going to head back. It’s getting late anyway.”

 

“I see. Goodnight, Ben.”

 

“Goodnight, Master Yana.”

 

It was later at dinner that Poe said, “You told your mom, didn’t you?”

 

Ben nodded. And even recounting what exactly happened in that commcall to Poe, he was already dreading that part, the part where he was going to tell Poe exactly what Ben’s mother had said about him. 

 

“You didn’t have to defend me,” Poe said. 

 

“Well, it was just like with Travis. I love you, and I don’t like people who don’t understand you.”

 

“They don’t get it is all.”

 

“Exactly,” Ben said. “They’ve never been out there. And neither have I, but I’m not pretending to be the authority on it. Besides, they don’t realize what a good person you are.”

 

“Ben, you’re -- ’’

 

“I know, you’ve told me. But you’re a good person. You’re kind, you’re funny, you’re braver than anyone who could ever criticize you, you see the good in people where others don't, you’re clever -- and the fact you’re devastatingly handsome and charming is a bonus.”

 

Poe laughed. He looked practically radiant. 

 

“I mean it.” Ben took his hand. “You are a wonderful man, and I’m blessed to be marrying you. And you’re  _ not  _ unstable.”

 

Poe swallowed. It was clear, at least, that he was deeply touched just by that. Then, “And by the stars I’m the luckiest man in the galaxy to be marrying you.”

 

They finished their meal, and headed over to do the dishes. Even as they loaded the washer, Poe looked over at Ben. “I’ve heard worse,” he said. “Not just from Travis.”

 

And Ben could hear those taunts too well. Not just unstable, but murdering. Killing. A pawn of the Republic. 

 

“Those  _ bastards, _ ” he said. “Those absolute bastards -- ’’

 

“They just don’t get it.”

 

“Exactly. I love you, Poe. I love you so much. You’re brave and you’re strong. You’re worth more than Snoke, I promise. Even if they don’t see it, everyone else around you does, and that includes me. Nothing that you’ve told me indicates anything less of a man who deserves so much happiness.”

 

“Ben...”

 

“There’s everything wrong with this war. But nothing wrong with you.”

 

“Thank you, Ben.”

 

Ben hugged him just then, buried his face in Poe’s shoulder, and sighed in contentment. How he loved him, how he loved him so much, was besotted with him, and how he’d do anything to make sure he was happy, content, safe. 

 

Anything.

 

***

Getting the wedding set up was the hard part. Han, in contrast to Leia, had been hesitant at first but after Poe had explained things to him, he had softened. They’d found a date, found a place to hold it thanks to Lando being more than accommodating, and managed to hold ground throughout the scrutiny that they were getting for going forth with the wedding in the first place. 

 

There were whispers. Whispers throughout the Order, as far as Poe could tell over the bond. Not always approving ones either. There had been people who had always seemed to regard Ben as an outsider, someone “freakish”

 

_ and it made no sense. how could anyone see Ben as anything besides beautiful?  _

 

being someone who decided to follow in his uncle’s footsteps and marry, have an Attachment, only made it worse. 

 

And then there was the day of the wedding itself. Poe wasn't going to lie that standing at the altar gave him the jitters. This was one of the most important decisions of his life and there was no going back. 

 

Then, after a long line of people, including Snap and Annie, Ben appeared. And Poe looked at him in amazement. 

 

It was as if everything Poe was worried about disappeared in that moment just seeing Ben on the other side of the aisle. Ben, in his formal suit, black and white, hair flowing freely down his shoulders, Han accompanying him. 

 

The both of them looked a sort of excited-nervous, Poe thought. Even as Han and Ben stopped at the altar, Han turned to look at Ben. He didn’t say anything, just a reassuring grin. Ben smiled back before turning towards Poe.

 

_ Stars, I can’t believe the way you look. You look  _ devastating. 

 

Poe couldn’t think of a good reply to that besides,  _ So do you.  _ He swallowed. Already, he was fluttering on the inside.

 

Even as the holy man spoke, Poe was hit by a sense of yes, this is really happening. Just beside him was the man he was spending the rest of his life with. Someone who, no matter what others said, was indescribably precious, more precious than he knew. 

 

Finally, the holy man came to the both of them, and the vows they would make. 

 

“And do you, Poe Dameron, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, in joy and sorrow, for as long as you both shall live?”

 

“I do.”  _ I will forever.  _

 

“And do you, Ben Solo, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, in joy and sorrow, for as long as you both shall live?”

 

Ben’s voice practically shook with emotion even as he spoke. “I do.”

 

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husbands for life.” And there was something about what the holy man said that was enough to make tears prickle at Poe’s eyes. Then the holy man said, “You may now kiss.”

 

Poe didn’t hesitate. Ben was always taller than him, but it didn’t stop Poe from all but embracing him, pulling him down to kiss him, and Ben embraced him, kissed him back. Eventually, Ben drew away, looking at Poe as if he were unspeakably precious and beautiful, and Poe returned that look, because by the stars he loved Ben, and Ben loved him back. 

 

And no matter what others thought, that was how it would always be. 


	50. Chapter 49: Shattered Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben and Poe are called back to find Snoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Sorry if this is like, days late. Let's say I was kind of running out of plot material and trying to find more things to write about. That's the best excuse I've got. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

It was after their wedding that the honeymoon was set up, and Ben knew that it had to be short. Their time was running low as it was; you never knew when there would be another attack by the Knights of Ren, you never knew when your peace would be unexpectedly disrupted. But he took shelter in the moments they had.

 

The commcalls between Ben and his mother were, to say the least, uncomfortable. She called when she could, and Ben listened to her, told her a bit about how he was doing, as much as he was able. He didn’t tell her about Poe. She didn’t need any more ammunition that she could use against his husband.

 

She didn’t need to call him “unstable” again.

 

Ben supposed that he should apologize. And yet there was something in him that remembered what she said, about the affair they had being purely physical, and about Poe being unstable, and there was a resistance that settled like a brick in him.

 

Still, he wasn’t going to let things intrude for long. He was going to keep Poe safe. Safe from harm, safe from anyone who wanted to hurt him again.

 

And in the meantime, he and Poe went swimming, read, watched holos, made love, and did things that newlyweds without military lives, or Jedi lives, did. It was a good exercise in normalcy for the both of them. Ben wondered if it was possible for the both of them to be normal. His parents could never be “normal” -- his father was driven by a need to provide as well as not being able to completely shed his smuggler roots, and his mother -- she could never shed her roots as a Senator.

 

Would he and Poe end up like that? At each other’s throats? They had had their fights in the past. Ben had definitely treated him poorly. Stars knew he adored Poe, but loving someone and hoping that you could do the best you could didn’t provide a foolproof plan against obstacles.

 

Who would play the role of the misguided provider, who would play the role of the senator?

 

It was heavy stuff to worry about on your honeymoon, but there you were.

 

Ben tried to block out those thoughts while they were on their honeymoon, of course. The ghosts of the past had no place in their bed, let alone memories of bad family life. And he would never treat Poe like his parents had treated each other. He loved Poe, and Poe loved him. He would never let Poe down. He would make Poe proud of him -- a husband to be proud of, to love. Poe would never know pain or disappointment. Poe would never know tears, or anger, not as long as they both lived.

 

Their honeymoon served as a source of safety from the rest of the galaxy, and that Ben knew that they both needed. There, he could keep them both safe, safe from anyone who would dare to hurt them, and that would be enough.

 

Until they got the holocall from General Madine.

 

Rather, Poe got the holocall. They were already curled up in bed, their bodies all but entwined, when the terminal started beeping.

 

Poe murmured softly, and Ben let him go. He got up himself, feeling as if his world had been disrupted somehow and couldn't quite be put right again.

 

They headed towards the terminal, and answered the call. General Madine’s face, aged and wise, appeared on screen.

 

“Commander Dameron,” he said. “Jedi Solo.”

 

Poe nodded. “Good afternoon, General.”

 

“First off, I’d like to congratulate you both. On your wedding.”

 

“Thank you, General,” Poe said.

 

“I do hate to call you up like this, Commander, but we discovered something about Haranka.”

 

Ben stiffened. Haranka, of all beings, was back in the picture? Even the idea of him still being out there, conducting his atrocities, was enough to make him feel sick. Madine continued. “Before you wonder, yes, he’s been arrested. But investigating the _Black Supernova_ ’s manifest, we found out that he has some ties to Ziost.”

 

“Ziost?” Ben said. “But that...” _That’s the stuff of legends._

 

“What exactly, Jedi Solo?”

 

“Well, Ziost is one of those old Sith capitals,” Ben said. “But it’s been abandoned for years. You don’t think Haranka’s trying to resurrect the Sith, do you?”

 

“I don’t know,” Madine said. “That’s why the Jedi and the Republic both are going to Ziost. We might even find out who this Snoke is.”

 

Ben nodded. “We’ll see it through to the end, General.”

 

“I know you will. I’ll see you both on Coruscant in a day. Madine out.”

 

Ben and Poe stared at the terminal long after Madine had signed out. Finally, Ben spoke. “I suppose we’re back to reality again,” he said.

 

“We are. But we’ve got some good news as well. We may be able to catch Snoke and end the war.”

 

“We may.” Ben placed his hands on Poe's upper arms. “I’m just tired of the war. After all this...we’ll go away somewhere. We’ll go away someplace where we can see the sky. Maybe where you can fly under it, where it’s clear.”

 

Poe smiled. “I’d love that.”

 

They looked around at their room. Already, it seemed inconceivable that they were leaving this, all of this, behind. Like their illusion of safety had been shattered. But sometimes safety had to be shattered, didn’t it? Sometimes you couldn't live in a bubble forever. Even though he wanted so badly to shelter Poe. Sweet, snarky, loving Poe, who seemed so fragile and delicate in Ben’s arms and yet was such a fighter, so strong.

 

“Why don’t we make this last day here something to remember?” Ben said.

 

“Let’s,” Poe said.

 

Their lips met, and they fell into the familiar rhythms of their lovemaking. Ben took care to memorize the feel of Poe’s hands, gentle and reverent, on his body, his lips quiet _I love you_ s against his skin, the feel of Poe’s eyes on him, hungry, loving, wanting, reverent.

 

Ben did what he could if only to reciprocate, his body aching for more of Poe’s touch. “Poe,” he murmured. “This feels...good. Poe...”

 

Poe’s lips pecked kisses into Ben’s neck, and Ben lost himself in Poe’s touches, a last glimpse of the happiness they had, briefly, carved out for themselves.


	51. Chapter 50: Return to Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Poe and Ben return to Coruscant to get debriefed for their first mission together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: I guess I did okay with this chapter. Writing the dialogue was pretty hard, though. (Oh, dialogue -- sometimes you come so easily, sometimes it's like the dialogue gods have abandoned me)
> 
> Also, had to cut another sexual scene short again because I'm still not quite certain about the ratings requirements on AO3. I'll be posting the unedited version here tonight, though, never fear.

The hangar up ahead was one of those things that Poe lived for -- and the open sky that lay beyond it for that matter.

 

Ever since he was a child and his mother had shown him glimpses of the life that lay in the distant stars, Poe Dameron had loved flying. Ben, though he had been more ground-based, had been just as enthusiastic, more than willing to join Poe in his games of X-Wing Pilots, acting out his stories of space battles and flying to distant planets without actually being there.

 

The military had proved that flying wasn’t always glamorous, but Poe Dameron still loved the open sky.

 

Ben turned to look at him, smiled. “You missed the open skies, didn’t you?”

 

“Yeah.” Poe took in a deep breath, taking in the smell of the ship in the hangar, of the open air.

 

“I can imagine.” Ben smiled at him again, and there was a certain fondness in there, the sort of fondness that suggested that there was nothing about Poe that wasn’t beautiful and amazing and wonderful. Poe couldn’t help but feel a certain pleasure at the look, at the smile. A certain warmth.

 

They got in the ship and started off into the open sky. There was always a certain amount of awe in terms of starting back into the skies, and this...this was no exception.

 

***

 

Even leaving the planet behind, Ben couldn’t help but feel a stab of melancholy. It felt almost as if they had lost at least a source of refuge for themselves, and a brief source of safety. Shooting into hyperspace felt even more like they were leaving their source of refuge behind.

 

It was on the way there that they played sabaac. Ben was starting to get really good at it, even beating Poe a few times. He always couldn't help but grin just at beating Poe at sabaac more than once; there was a certain thrill in it.

 

“You’re definitely learning,” Poe said, and there was a mischievous purr in his voice. “My apprentice.”

 

Ben smiled. “That I am.” It was one of those jokes that they had together, one of those jokes that probably made no sense to anyone besides themselves. In truth, Poe would make a dashing Jedi Master. Gorgeous, actually. But in this role, he mostly guided Ben through different aspects of their relationship, mostly the more sexual aspects that the Order had cut him off from.

 

Sometimes, though, it was just something as simple as a sabaac game.

 

“You’ve been learning so much,” Poe said. “I’m so proud of you.”

 

“I had a good teacher.”

 

“And you’re a good student.”

 

Poe’s hand caressed the side of his face, and Ben relaxed into the touch. A hand ran possessively over the side of his neck, and then down his shoulder, down his arm, cupped his waist. All the while, Poe looked at him with such a hunger, as if he couldn’t get enough.

 

“I wouldn’t mind, actually,” Ben said. “If you were my teacher.”

 

“You think I’d make a good one?”

 

“A wonderful one.”

 

"I wouldn't mind it," Poe said. "Especially with such a...devastatingly tempting student at my disposal."  
  
He ran a thumb along the line of Ben's lower lip, the sort of gesture that Ben could not miss. His breath hitched even as Poe did it -- there was something vaguely claiming about it. They were close, close enough to kiss --

 

The console started beeping, and Poe sighed and drew away. “Looks like we’re coming up on Coruscant.”

 

Ben walked with him towards the console if only to see and they were coming up on Coruscant indeed. Coruscant, the planet that was one big city, and they were nearly there.

 

“We’ll catch up later,” Poe said.

 

The meeting was already crowded when they got in. They took their seats, the rest of Black Squadron greeting Poe with grins, asking him how the honeymoon went, and Ben himself could not help but be swamped by it too. It was something, it truly was, being part of Poe’s friends in a strange way. Annie and Mike greeted him too, asking him how he was, how the vacation went, things of that nature. Finally, General Madine stepped out and everyone went silent.

 

“It’s good to see all of you,” he said. “We’ve called you back here because reports have been found of a link between Haranka’s slave trade and the planet of Ziost. Ziost is an ancient Sith planet, so whatever Haranka’s ties, they may be to the Sith. We’ll be heading off to Ziost in order to investigate these ties. Investigating the _Black Supernova_ ’s manifest gives us a good place to start in one of Ziost’s fortresses. Master Skywalker has already set up his strike team.”

 

Uncle Luke stepped out and said, “Ziost is a dangerous place. It’s been long abandoned, but it’s likely there are still traps and plenty more that await on the planet. Therefore, we are not going in without a safety plan. Life support packs, protection against cold, and plenty of other things. Most of all, do not underestimate the power of the Dark Side on this planet.”

 

It was long after the meeting ended that they retired to their rooms. To Ben’s pleasure, they had separate rooms from the others, so they could have all the privacy they wished. It was long after they got ready for bed and got into bed that Ben spoke. “You nervous?”

 

“A bit,” Poe said. “But I’m also glad. I mean, maybe with capturing Snoke, we can end the war. Finally.”

 

“And we could go away together.”

 

“Long as I could keep in touch.”

 

Ben hummed. “Why wouldn’t I allow you to stay in touch?”

 

“I just don’t want to move too far.”

 

“We wouldn’t go too far.” Ben’s hands trailed over his hair. “Just as far as I’d go to make you happy.”

 

“Ben...”

 

“I want you to be happy.”

 

“I know.” Poe hummed softly. “But being with you...that’s happy enough. Being with Jess and the others, being with you...I am happy there.”

 

Ben drew him closer in, closer into an embrace, and nestled into the crook of his shoulder. “I am too.”

 

“Mmmmm?”

 

“Happy. With you.”

 

They lay there in the night, Poe sighing in contentment. “I missed you so much, you know. On the missions.”

 

“Did you?” He already knew. But he wanted to hear Poe say it.

 

“Yeah. I’d just...lie awake and I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about you, where you were, what you were doing. How you’d feel. And...more.” Poe exhaled. “I wanted you so badly.”

 

He could feel Poe’s desire -- this hunger that he felt for his then-lover that could hardly be repressed, a hunger that he kept to himself on missions, but tortured him late at night like an itch he had to scratch. Lying awake, wondering where Ben was and what he was doing. Longing for him. Feelings that only became more potent when Ben opened up their bond.

 

“I missed you too,” Ben said, softly. He trailed a finger along Poe’s cheek. As he trailed lower, he swore Poe shivered though not unpleasantly, arching into the touches. Ben himself ached to touch Poe more, love him more. Poe burned, his skin flushed, and Ben looked up at him. _May I? Can I go lower?_

 

_Yes, Ben. Stars, your touch..._

 

 

It was long after they had made love that Ben drew Poe into an embrace, savoring the warmth of his body. 

 

“My darling.” Ben kissed his temple. “How do you feel?”

 

Poe grinned up at him. “Never better.” A relieved sort of sigh. “I really did miss this on our missions. I missed you.”

 

“I missed you too. Tell you what, after the war’s over...we can go somewhere. Away from the war.” Ben could still remember what he had said to his mother during that horrible argument, an argument that he knew full well was childish and yet he also remembered what she had said about Poe being unstable, about any grief for Thomas somehow being _bad_

 

_how messed up was the Jedi Code anyhow?_

 

and he knew that apologizing to her was going to be like pulling teeth.

 

But he would take Poe away from the war, he knew that much. As far as he could. Heal his wounds, any remaining physical ones, any remaining emotional ones.

 

Poe made a sound that sounded almost like a purr. “Tell me a bit about it.”

 

“Well, who knows where we’d go?” Ben hummed softly even as he ran a hand through Poe’s hair. “Maybe we’d go to the same planet we had our honeymoon. We’d be there, we’d be able to see the sky. Fly under it together. I know I haven’t gone flying in quite a while. So we could go flying. See the sky, see the clouds. And we’d be happy together.”

 

Poe nuzzled into the crook of Ben’s body. “Happy. That sounds good to me.”

 

Ben placed his cheek on the crown of Poe’s head. “It sounds good to me too.”

 

Silence.

 

“We’re going to have to go on that mission tomorrow, won’t we?”

 

Ben nodded. “Ziost. I can only hope that we can find Snoke. Except...”

 

“What?”

 

“I just have a feeling,” Ben said. “That I’m not going to like what I find.”

 

“Whatever happens, we’re going to face this head-on.”

 

“Exactly. And you’re safe with me. I promise.”

 

Poe hummed softly, almost a purr, before relaxing in Ben’s arms. Ben looked down at him, looked at that relaxed face, the locks of hair that fell around it, framed it in that sort of almost devil-may-care fashion, the thick eyelashes that stood out against golden skin, and he felt a sudden sort of wave of protectiveness for Poe.

 

_I love you. Dear stars, I love you. For you, for everyone, I’d find a way to end this war in an instant._

 

And even the idea that it couldn’t be done so quickly was enough to make Ben want to find a way to end it quicker even more.

  
Ben slept then, the warmth of Poe’s body pulling him into a deep, strangely peaceful rest.


	52. Chapter 51: Ziost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben and co. land on Ziost, Ben has a near miss with the Dark Side, and he learns a bit about what Snoke has in store for him (without still knowing who Snoke is).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

He woke, and Ben’s body was warm beside him, soothing, and the sun that played on both their bodies was just as soothing. It was remarkable how well he had slept -- at least well by his standards -- with Ben for company, Ben holding him in his arms. Poe was almost reminded of their honeymoon, and how well he had slept then. Though in the case of their honeymoon, they would have fed one another breakfast before spending most of the day catching up on activities they always wanted to do.

 

Ben stirred, and looked down at him, gave him a soft smile. “Morning.”

 

“G’morning,” Poe said.

 

Their lips touched. Ben’s lips were soft and warm against Poe’s own, and Poe kissed him back, a slow, lazy sort of kiss. Ben broke the kiss to place another one on Poe’s shoulder, a light one, before inhaling the scent of his skin.

 

“I forgot how good you smell,” Ben said, and his voice was soft all the while. “It’s one of those things I missed on those missions you went on.”

 

“One of them, huh?”

 

“And talking to you. And...just about everything else about you.”

 

“Same for you.” Poe got out of bed. “Though...you’re a bit too nice to me on the smell front. I need a shower.”

 

“I think we both do.”

 

It was after they showered and dressed, Ben in his robes, Poe in his usual flight suit, that they headed down to the mess hall. They sat down, the chatter of the others in their ears, even as they ate. And they talked themselves, talked about different thing before they headed off towards Ziost.

 

Poe could only hope that he could do whatever he could in order to help his beloved down on that planet. He could feel Ben’s anxiety about Ziost, about the Dark Side that lurked down on the planet.

 

He could only hope that he could do what he could to help Ben.

  
  


***

 

From the moment they landed on Ziost, Ben could not help but feel uneasy. Even getting out of his own ship, he wasn’t just assailed by the sheer cold of the planet, but also the Dark on the planet. Whispers, murmurs from the past. Rumbling voices and growls, and plenty more. Too much more, actually.

 

He clapped his hands over his head, trying to block out the sounds, trying to breathe, center himself, but it seemed just about impossible in this landscape.

 

“Ben. Hey.” Poe’s voice. “Is everything okay?”

 

“It’s this planet. It’s so noisy. There’s too much sound, too much noise...” Ben rubbed his temples. “And it’s so cold. I thought the Dark Side would be hot, but instead it’s freezing...”

 

“I know.” Mike said. “It’s really cold. And weird. Like it’s...calling to us.” He sighed. “You better be careful too, Ben. It’s like this planet wants us to slip up...”

 

“That’s an understatement,” Ben said.

 

Poe put an arm about him, and though Ziost was cold, too cold, for a moment he found a scrap of warmth there. Just in the matter of Poe’s body. Ziost was cold, Poe was warm. And that was a comfort enough.

 

They continued across towards the Ziost fortress, and it was then Ben heard it. A whisper across the wastelands.

 

_Ben..._

 

It was the voice of the Dark Side. Not like when they were all younglings and the Dark Side had a certain hissing quality to it in the games they played, or a cackling quality. It sounded warm, almost friendly, gently tugging at Ben.

 

_Hello, Ben._

 

Ben drew his robes further around himself, just to keep out the cold, the Dark that seemed to be reaching out to him.

 

_We’ve been waiting for you so long. The one who may finally bring balance..._

 

“Ben?”

 

Poe’s voice. Soft, gentle. Sounding as if it were coming through a faint fog.

 

“Ben!” Poe’s voice again, cutting through the voices that were already surrounding him.

 

_You are the One. The One who may facilitate our return..._

 

Ben gritted his teeth. Even trying to reorient himself to the present was already difficult.

 

He was surrounded by the voices. They were swarming around him, and he all but yanked himself away from them, falling towards the ground --

 

Poe’s arms were around him in that moment, supporting him, and they were so soft and so warm, so reassuring, that Ben was stabilized for the moment. _It’s all right, Ben. I’ve got you. I have you. You’re_ mine _._

 

_Yes, Poe. Yours. Completely yours._

 

Poe couldn’t catch him very well thanks to how tall he was, how skinny he was, but nonetheless, Ben could not help but be comforted. Eventually, Poe let him go and Ben looked down at him in relief.

 

“You feeling better?”

 

“A bit.” For a moment, Ben thought, he had found some degree of warmth in the cold that was Ziost. A bit of Light in the overwhelming Dark.

 

“Just stay close to me.” I’ll hold you, was the unspoken promise. I’ll comfort you. I’ll love you. I won’t let the Dark get you.

 

They continued in, and Ben could swear that there were some beings were already staring at them. Whispering. _Is that Allowed?_

 

_Master Skywalker has a wife..._

 

_But that isn’t Right either..._

 

He drew Poe in close. They didn’t need to pay attention to beings like that. They simply couldn’t.

 

The fortress on Ziost seemed to all but tower above them. Even continuing in, there was nothing there, no traps, no strange animals that might have found their way in there, no soldiers, nothing.

 

“Are you sure we’re not in the wrong place?” Mike said.

 

“I don’t know,” Ben said, feeling a twitch of irritation. “Uncle Luke would know better than I do and he’s not even here.”

 

“I’m just saying, I don’t know if he meant for us to come this way.”

 

“I don’t know either,” Ben said, “But you’re not taking over the -- ’’

 

“Ben!” Annie said. “Don’t do that. Don’t you get it? It wants us to fight among ourselves. That way it can isolate us more easily, convert us.”

 

Ben forced himself to inhale. “I’m sorry, Mike,” he said. “That was uncalled for.”

 

Mike shrugged. “S’all right. It’s this...place. Stang, this place just gives me the creeps.”

 

In a place like Ziost, Ben thought, something “giving you the creeps” was an understatement.

 

It was in one of the rooms that they found the collection of datapads. Ben read over them -- all of them, apparently, were Snoke’s. Even though it all seemed too calculated, as if Snoke wanted someone to find the datapads. The question was why.

 

Ben drew out the datapads, one by one, and read through them. It was one particular one that caught his eye.

 

“Ben,” Mike said, “You okay? You look like a pitten on a hot durasteel roof, I’m just saying.”

 

Ben barely heard him. Instead, he was caught up in reading the pad.

 

_I found the answer that I’ve been looking for, and it’s here, in this boy, Ben Solo. The way the Force blends in him is a remarkable gift, and the extent of his power is something to behold. I don’t think that I have ever seen such power, such potential. Not like his. Nothing like his. Even watching him, I wonder if his parents ever realized his full potential, if they even cared._

 

_Of course they didn’t. Han Solo thought the Force was a “hokey religion”, and Leia Organa was too trapped in her beliefs about the Light vs. the Dark. She believes that the Light is good and the Dark is bad. The truth is, petty labels do not sum up our mission. The First Order may have risen from the Dark Side, but if it did, it was because of necessity. I am what ren demanded I be. I am not what the Dark Side may have demanded I be._

 

“ _Ren_.” Ben sighed. “Either this Snoke is Milaran, or is a fan of Milaran culture.”

 

“Could Snoke be Milaran...whatever _ren_ means?” Mike said.

 

“He could.” Ben could only hope it wasn’t Yana. Yana had been so kind to him, so supportive. Yana had taught him so much.

 

_But is he teaching you the right things?_ a part of him said.

 

Ben couldn’t say he had even considered anything like that. He had been so caught up in stopping Lisaris that he hadn’t stopped to think...

 

Whatever happened, he would find a way to resist Snoke, no matter what it took. No matter how Snoke persuaded him, he would not fall.

 

He would not fail.


	53. Chapter 52: Complicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben recuperates after Ziost, and Yana/Snoke begins on the corruption thing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It was getting back from Ziost that Ben was still troubled by the matter of what had happened there.

 

It wasn’t as if Ben had fallen. But he had come so close. And to think that Snoke had plans for him...he didn’t want to think of what sort of plans they were. He had always been scared of falling to the Dark Side. This...well, this only intensified that feeling.

 

It was while he was in the library looking again (and in futility) for something categorized under Snoke (including Milaran history) that he ran into Yana.

 

“Is all well, Ben?” Yana said.

 

“Not really.”

 

“Is it about Ziost?”

 

“Yeah.” It hadn’t helped that Naris had thrown some jabs about him and Poe that were enough to make Ben uncomfortable. It was enough to throw Ben back to when he was a kid and Jimmy Nichos had taunted him about Vader going to get him, as well as other things that were going on as a kid.

 

“Indeed. That planet is strong in the Dark Side of the Force.”

 

Ben was already reminded of something that Poe had said when they had gotten back. _It would have probably happened to anyone. Even feeling it over the link, I probably would have succumbed to it myself if it were on full blast._ It had been a faint comfort, even though Ben still wished he hadn’t been so _susceptible_ , so _weak_...

 

He shouldn’t have even felt the Dark Side at all. He shouldn’t have even felt the Beast gnawing at him. And here he was. There was Ben Solo, the man who felt the Dark Side tugging at him.

 

“I’d be lying,” Ben said. “If I said I wasn’t scared.”

 

Yana took his hand. Ben was struck by how fragile it seemed in comparison to his own large hand -- it was one of those things he hated about his appearance, his hands, too large, too awkward, too able to break things. And Yana -- he was so fragile-seeming, and yet so strong. Perhaps one of the strongest beings that Ben had ever known.

 

“You don’t have to be,” said Yana. “I promise you, Ben, that I will never let anything bad happen to you. Not once, not ever.”

 

Ben smiled. “I know. And I trust you, Master Yana. Completely.”

 

“Thank you.” And it was here that Master Yana actually sounded caught off-guard. Had anyone trusted him before? Even that idea was enough to hurt Ben thinking about it. Master Yana was a good man, after all. He truly was.

 

There was silence for a while before Yana spoke again. “Has Master Naris been giving you any trouble, Ben?”

 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Even with the jabs that Naris had thrown at him about him and Poe, it wasn’t anything that Ben hadn’t heard before. At least from Naris and the others.

 

“It’s interesting that he does that considering that back in the Old Republic era, while the Clone Wars raged, the Jedi had exceptions in terms of allowing marriage.”

 

Ben looked at him in bewilderment. Then, “Really?”

 

“For a select few,” said Yana. “For beings like Ki-Adi Mundi. If I recall correctly, he had multiple wives.”

 

“And yet everyone else thinks it’s wrong that I married Poe. Even though Uncle Luke is married.” Ben ran a hand through his hair. “I just...even trying to figure out their line of logic is making my brain hurt.”

 

“I’d call their line of thinking less logic and more dogma.”

 

“Yeah.” Ben bit his lip. He thought absently of the slaves that he had found on the Black Supernova, as well as how Uncle Luke had forbid them from helping out in the war against Snoke.

 

_And to think I went along with it..._

 

“The interesting thing, Ben, is that you are far from the only one. How much do you know about Darth Vader?”

 

Ben swallowed. “I know he was a monster,” he said. “A murderer.”

 

“So the popular interpretation has been. But long ago, he was a Jedi.”

 

“I know that too,” Ben said.

 

“He was a Jedi who fell deeply in love with a Senator from Naboo. And don’t look at me like that, Ben -- I speak the truth. I know that I was captured by him at one point. The fact that I escaped is a long story. But when I met him, what struck me about him was the amount of anguish he was in.”

 

“Vader...was in pain?” Even trying to picture the black-suited monstrosity that haunted Ben’s nightmares at times as a child as a sentient being in pain...it seemed almost unbelievable. And yet it was as if he could sense what Yana had sensed, even in between the further torments they inflicted on his body.

 

“Does that surprise you? When is a monster not a monster, Ben? When it’s given the capacity to feel pain. Even when I felt it from him, it was akin to a sea of it.”

 

“Because he was...?” Ben couldn’t picture any circumstance where Vader could possibly feel pain. It seemed inconceivable, strange. Would he feel any remorse over what he had done? Ben doubted it was possible. Beings like him didn’t feel remorse over what they had done.

 

“Are you familiar with the term _ava_ , Ben?”

 

Ben shook his head. “It’s Milaran, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes. It means _love beyond cycles_. A love that would continue into the next incarnation, beyond hope, beyond reason. Senator Amidala was Lord Vader’s _ava_.”

 

“How?” Ben said. _How would anyone fall in love with him?_

 

“They simply were _ava_ , Ben. When she died, it was as if a part of him died too.”

 

And Ben could sense it. Pain, pain beyond measure. Like an amputee who had the procedure done without anesthetic, or someone who had used anesthetic but felt the absence of their limb too keenly. A whole sea of it too.

 

Darth Vader...even Darth Vader felt pain. Isolation. Helplessness.

 

“He was lonely,” Ben said. “So afraid to leave. Paralyzed.” He wet his lips. “Who would wish for that life?”

 

“I would say it shows the depths of his determination. Even after his ava betrayed him and his father figure betrayed him as well, he did not surrender. When he was left disabled, he did not let it hinder him, but used it to his advantage. When he was left to burn to death, he lived through such an ordeal. A remarkable act of heroism in its own right, is it not?”

 

Ben bit his lip. Even thinking about it more, losing everything in such a horrific way -- in a way, Vader was strong. Someone so wounded, and yet so strong.

 

“It’s strange, but I can’t help but feel sorry for him,” he said. “And...admire him. He must have been incredibly brave to go through such an ordeal and live.”

 

“Indeed. What he endured, what he survived...it would have been worthy of the Milaran warriors of old.”

 

Ben somehow could not argue with that. To lose everything and still live...

 

“It must have been hard,” Ben said.

 

“It must have.”

 

“And you’re brave too. One of the bravest beings I know.”

 

Yana looked genuinely caught off-guard. Then he said, “And you are too kind.”

 

“It’s the truth. Because...” Ben swallowed. “You were tortured, weren’t you?” He could see it in his mind even as he spoke.

 

“I was. They intended to convert me to their side. I still have the scars.”

 

“Could I...heal some of your scars for you?”

 

He swore Yana’s breath hitched. Then he said, “They are old scars, Ben. They are many, and the causes equally so. They are of no importance. But...thank you.”

 

It was back at his and Poe’s place that Ben told Poe about what he’d learned.

 

“Pretty scary thought,” Poe said. “Younger Vader. I mean, I can’t picture him at all behind that mask.”

 

“Neither can I.” Ben dug into his helping of Corellian pasta. “What would he look like?”

 

Poe shrugged. “I don’t know, really. I mean, I was pretty little when the Empire fell. I definitely can’t tell you about Vader. You could ask your uncle about it.”

 

“Yeah,” Ben said. “I could.”

 

There was a long quiet before Poe said, “How are you feeling? Y’know, about Ziost?”

 

“A little better. I guess I just worry.”

 

“About falling to the Dark Side?”

 

“Yeah.” _And not being good enough. For the Jedi, for you._

 

_Am I good enough for you?_

 

Poe looked across the table at Ben. _Yes. Always, yes._

 

Ben could only hope that he could still be good enough, after all this time, for Poe.


	54. Chapter 53: Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben starts to research Vader's background some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Even getting into Vader’s background, Ben could not help but be fascinated. He shouldn't have been, and yet here he was. It was one of those things he idly researched, one of those things that he looked up when he was still in training with Master Yana and, of course, coming home to see Poe. He looked up the matter of Vader’s exploits, and there was something about seeing the dark-clad mechanical warrior that made him wonder how this creature and the man who still mourned the Senator from Naboo could conceivably be the same person. How, was the question. How could someone who loved a Senator that intensely go on to be a murderer?

  


It didn’t make sense. Nothing about it made sense. Perhaps it was one of those things that simply was. And yet Ben couldn’t reconcile the dark-clad warrior of his childhood nightmares with someone who had loved a Senator and ultimately paid for it.

  


It was after one of those look-ups of Vader’s exploits (any knowledge about Vader before the suit seemed to be lost thanks to the Empire) that Ben could not help but be enthralled in a horrible way. The way Vader carried himself, the way he spoke -- he had a sort of dignity and grace that Ben doubted he could ever truly possess. And his conviction...

  


It was wrong to think that way, and yet Ben could not help but be fascinated.

  


And even after all he suffered, he had _recovered_. He had _persisted_. The fact he had done so, the fact he had gone that far...

  


“You seem to be quite fascinated with him,” Yana said, a touch of amusement in his voice.

  


“I -- I guess I am.” Ben swallowed. “It’s wrong, I shouldn’t, but he seems so...”

  


“What does he seem, Ben?”

  


“Strong. He has to have been to endure something like that.” Even listening closely to more impressions from Yana, he noticed something else. “He...” And it was there that he felt a sudden wave of nausea. “How could Obi-Wan have done this?”

  


Yana sounded disgusted even as he spoke. “Perhaps he saw himself as righteous while he was doing it.”

  


“But stuff like that isn’t righteous,” Ben said. “How could it be?”

  


“He likely convinced himself that an enemy of the Jedi Order deserved what happened to him. It’s not implausible.”

  


Ben bit his lip. “I wouldn’t have left him like that,” he said. “I would have helped him. If it had been Annie or Mike, I would have helped them. I wouldn't have just...” He ran a hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t have just left him there. What happened to him after?”

  


“He survived,” said Yana. “And though he suffered terrible injuries, he managed to somehow turn those injuries to his advantage.”

  


And the more Ben listened, the more he could not help but admire Vader -- not for what he had done, not really. But the fact that he had managed to endure this, all of this, and survive...

  


That was remarkable. _That_ was amazing.

  


And Ben could not help but feel at least a smidgen of respect for Vader, as well as pity.

  


“It shouldn't have happened to him,” Ben said. “It really shouldn’t have.”

  


“Indeed, it should not have. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a Jedi, after all. He was expected to do better than that, and yet...here he was.”

  


“I don’t want to be like him. I want to be a good Jedi. Genuinely good.” _Not that that’s in reach, of course._

  


“That’s not all you want, is it, Ben?”

  


Ben took a deep breath. There was so much that he did want, honestly, there was so much that he wished could happen. In the end, he said, “I want the war to end. I want Poe to be happy.”

  


He could have sworn something flashed in Yana’s eyes. Nothing concrete, just _something_. Then Yana spoke. “Because you love him. Because you see him as your _ava_.”

  


“Yes.” It seemed that the Milarans had come up with the perfect word to describe these feelings that Poe was capable of evoking in him. _Ava._ It at least summed up the way that Poe made him feel so incredibly happy.

  


“I can’t promise that the war will be over in seconds. But I can teach you how to fight. I can teach you how to help stabilize this broken galaxy, so that nothing like this ever happens again. Can you do that, Ben?”

  


Ben nodded.

  


It was later on that they went to the training center. Yana shed his cloak before turning towards Ben. He said nothing, merely nodded.

  


Ben shed his cloak, letting it fall to the ground. He could swear that Yana’s eyes ghosted over the lines of his body that still showed through before finally saying, “We already learned how to fight against double-bladed lightsabers. This lesson, we’ll be seeing what you can do with two lightsabers in hand.”

  


He handed Ben another lightsaber. He then walked over towards the terminal and activated it. An image of Darth Revan appeared, and Ben could not help but feel chills go up his spine. Darth Revan, the prodigal Knight, who had redeemed himself ultimately but had been formidable, even deadly, back in the day.

  


It reminded him too much of the strange figure on Milara. The masked figure who, in the vision, had given orders to destroy the village. But this figure had had a red lightsaber like a cross, and this...Revan had only two lightsabers, both regular.

  


_No. Don’t shiver. Don’t falter. Don’t be afraid. You can’t afford to._

  
“Now,” Yana said. “Shall we begin?”

 


	55. Chapter 54: Justify the Means

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben and Master Yana/Snoke have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I am so sorry. I have no words for how sorry I am that I took so long to get the chapter posted. I admit I'm not quite happy with it (as Ben just looks like he's good as walking into a trap), but I hope you like, at any rate.

It was after the sparring session was over that Ben asked Yana about the vision. He was already nervous about asking him, he wasn’t going to lie, but there had been something about Revan’s mask that had already brought back memories of the masked figure. 

 

The masked figure that had ordered the execution of the villagers so callously. The masked figure with his face underneath. 

 

Yana looked at him, and it was as if those blue eyes came alive with intense interest. “Indeed?” he said. 

 

“I saw it,” Ben said. “It was three years ago. I should have told someone, but I was ashamed.”

 

“You haven’t even told Poe Dameron?”

 

“I haven't,” Ben said. How did he tell Poe, anyway? How did he tell him about the vision he had had three years ago? Poe would likely think that he was some sort of disgusting monster, and Ben couldn’t bear that idea. The idea of being unworthy and disgusting and soiled for Poe was always something that Ben knew he feared. 

 

Even when he was nineteen, he had felt it. Felt that fear. That fear of, simply, not being good enough for Poe. It was still a fear that cropped up, that simple wondering if  _ am I good enough for you?  _

 

He would crawl on his hands and knees and beg if he had to. It was a good thing that Poe would never expect him to do it then. 

 

“Are you...”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ben said. He didn’t want Yana to see it, how he needed Poe. He didn’t want Yana to see how much he would do anything, just about everything, for this miracle. How much he feared he wasn’t good enough. How much he loved him. 

 

But Yana seemed to pick up on it anyway. “You fear how he’ll react, don’t you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“His opinions...they matter to you.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I daresay he underappreciates you. I dare say that he doesn’t realize the depths of your devotion.”

 

“I think he knows.”

 

Yana narrowed his eyes. “If you say so.”

 

“Can  _ ren  _ be fought?” Ben said. 

 

Yana was quiet for a long while. It was as if what Ben said had genuinely caught him off-guard. Then he said, “Do you want to fight it, Ben?”

 

“I don't want to become the monster I saw in that vision.”

 

“I see,” Yana said. “That depends on your definition of the word ‘monster’, of course.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, Ben, when is a monster a monster? When others deem it to be so.”

 

“It’s just...”

 

“ _ Ren  _ can be fluid. What might be might be, but it might not be.”

 

Ben raised an eyebrow. “You’re not making sense.”

 

“What I’m saying, Ben, is that what you saw on Milara might not be what you think it is.”

 

“Really?” Ben said. “I’d say it was pretty clear-cut.”

 

“Did Master Yoda once say that the future was always in motion?”

 

“I believe so, yes.”

 

“You could very well become a hero in your own right, Ben. A defender of the weak. Wouldn’t you give anything for deaths like Thomas’ not to happen again?”

 

“I would. Anything.”

 

“And for slavery to be stopped?”

 

“Yes. Anything.”

 

“What if you used it for good, all of it?”

 

Ben hesitated. “How?”

 

“Well, you wouldn’t have to use the visage. But really, have the Jedi Order ever done anything for those they swore to protect? Remember what happened with the  _ Black Supernova _ . Remember the war with Snoke.”

 

“I can’t argue with that.” 

 

“What if you did something better? What if you did something that truly improved this broken galaxy instead of neglecting it?”

 

The thought was too wonderful to imagine. 

 

“I could.”

 

Yana smiled. “Then you’re learning.” 

  
Ben walked out of sparring practice, already troubled by the idea that things, simply, may not have been what they appeared to be. 


	56. Chapter 55: History Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yana continues to manipulate Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: I want to apologize for how Yana/Snoke portrays Leia here. Let's say it's part of more of an attempt to manipulate Ben. That's basically why I included it.

Ben turned twenty-three. And even as that year came up, Poe could tell that his husband was slipping into old habits again.

Poe wasn’t going to lie; there was something about watching Ben’s Force powers developing that was both invigorating and worrying. It reminded Poe too well of the days when Ben would show up on his doorstep, pale, pasty, skinny-looking, and with that crazed look in his eyes. It reminded Poe of those days so well that it was scary to watch, actually. But Ben reassured him that he wasn’t falling to the Dark Side, that he was doing all right.

“I’m just honing my skills a little more,” he said. “I won’t fall to the Dark Side, Poe. I promise.”

All while Poe’s face was cupped between his hands as if Poe were delicate, breakable. All with that look in his eyes as if Poe were unspeakably precious and beautiful.

Poe didn’t doubt Ben’s sincerity -- at least in his intentions to not fall to the Dark Side. At least in his love for Poe. Poe knew that Ben loved him, and stars knew that he loved Ben back.

But loving someone and hoping you could do what you could wasn’t enough to ward off against mistakes, was it?

***

Ben still went to see Yana for sparring practice. So far, he thought, he was getting better. He wasn’t perfect -- far from it, actually -- but he was getting better than he was. At least, it was a step up from the one-legged drunken tach that Master Naris said that was better than him. He wasn’t the best duelist in the Order, but he was getting better. Maybe one day he’d be a superb duelist. One day.

And he spoke with Yana. There were things that Yana said that seemed all but outrageous, and yet somehow, they made sense. Even if Ben didn’t think that they were things you should just go around and say.

It was after Yana had expressed one opinion about the Empire and the Rebellion not being so different that Ben spoke up.

“I don’t think you should just go around saying that,” Ben said.

“Well, really, Ben, was the Rebellion any better?”

Ben bit his lip. “They were trying to restore peace to the galaxy.”

“And yet they left numerous amounts of bloodshed in their wake.”

“But that’s what happens during war, right?” Ben said. “War...isn’t supposed to be clean. Just because they had to kill doesn't necessarily make them bad beings.”

“No.” Yana actually looked pensive for a moment. Ben thought he could, for a moment, catch glimpses of a younger Yana leading his troops into battle. Still smooth-headed, but having a sort of idealism that Ben doubted he could see on this Yana. “No, of course not. Killing in battle is a necessity. I doubt your enemies would be interested in talking over caffa, after all. But the Rebellion were too willing to strip their enemies of anything that made them sentient and worthy of being treated with respect. They cared little for those who perished in their attacks -- did you know that the majority of those who died on the First Death Star included civilian workers?”

Ben’s breath hitched. “Mom...never told me that.” Did she not know? Did she not care? Even that idea was too horrifying to consider. Mom, who was compassionate and kind to others, actually condoning the deaths of innocents.

And even that was enough to hurt. To think Ben was monitoring his every move to make sure one sneeze wrong didn’t turn him to the Dark Side, but somehow killing civilian workers was a righteous act. Did anything about the Light Side actually seem kind?

“Of course she didn’t. It would poke quite the sizeable hole in her narrative. Good triumphs, evil is punished...that’s the popular narrative for as long as stories were first invented. What measure is a civilian worker life to those who think that way? Clearly they are evil and deserve to die. Compassion is for those who deserve it, in the eyes of the Rebel Alliance.”

“They couldn’t possibly think that way,” Ben said. Could the Rebellion have thought that way? That individual lives could simply be divided into “deserving of life” and “deserving of death”? Beings like Tarkin were hardly innocent, they were monsters, even, but did everyone else deserve death? There had to be someone who was worthy of life...

“Many did. Like so many monsters, they believed themselves to be heroes.”

Ben bit his lip. Were the Rebellion monsters? He could remember how in his childhood being told about the Rebellion’s heroic exploits (as well as Rogue One’s) -- the story of Jyn Erso killing Orson Krennic, the story of how Rogue One stole and transmitted the Death Star plans, the story of how Uncle Luke destroyed the Death Star, the story of the Battle of Endor, stories about Shara Bey and Kes Dameron and Mon Mothma and many others. “They -- ’’

“Some of the more extreme branches, such as Saw Gerrera’s partisans, even tortured other beings.”

“They couldn’t have!” Ben said.

“Oh yes. They definitely thought it was perfectly all right if the ends justified the means. They even tortured a pilot who sought to go over to their side. Not exactly the deeds of heroes, is it?”

“That’s wrong,” Ben said. “That’s...” He trailed off. Had he been any better, what he had done to Narudar? But that had been different, hadn’t it?

How different? True, Bodhi had been an innocent and Narudar was not, but even so, it was an act of mental invasion.

“Like so many villains,” Yana said, “Saw Gerrera fancied himself to be the hero. I’m certain it justified what he did to a pilot who wished to ally with him, or leaving a sixteen year old child soldier to fend for herself.” A beat. “Of course, he had been fighting a pointless war for some time. Perhaps his sense of morality had withered. No such thing as bad tactics, is there?”

“But there are bad tactics. I mean...just because the targets are evil doesn’t give you the right.”

Beat. “I think you have more morals than both your parents put together, Ben.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course. Wherever you got your sense of morals from, it certainly wasn’t from either of them.”

“Dad’s a good man.”

“But he’s done things that have frustrated you, has he not?”

Ben swallowed. “It’s in the past,” he said. “It’s not a big deal.”

Yana was silent. Then, “Ben, have you ever heard of Milaran junglecats?”

Ben shook his head. “Not really.”

“They eat their young.”

Ben looked at him, startled. Yana continued. “There is much that can be learned from them. How similar they are to humans -- and aliens too. How callously they can betray their young for their own gratification. As far as I’ve observed, your mother is no different than a junglecat. Did she ever show you affection? Did she ever see you as a being in your own right, or did she ever see the shadow of Vader?”

Ben couldn’t say he could argue with that. He could still remember the moments when his mother had read to him and laughed with him, but he could also remember her fear, her anxiety whenever he got upset, and the thoughts that streamed out of her about him being too much like Vader. Something he was still scared of. As if Vader were some spirit in a horror holo and Ben was possessed. Other beings in the Enclave, at least some of them, seemed to think so too. At least some of the Masters did.

Ben bit his lip. “She didn't do it on purpose.”

“You don’t know that. Of course she could have.”

That was something that Ben couldn’t bear to think about. “She wasn’t all bad -- ’’

“Does the good really outweigh the bad?”

“She’s...she’s not a monster.”

“But she’s not a saint either, is she, Ben?”

Silence fell.

“Think, Ben. Think, and you will understand.”

Ben doubted he could, but he could try.

“Tell me more,” Ben said. “About the Empire, and the Rebellion.”

Yana did, and there was something about his voice, Ben thought, where he could simply get lost in it. He had the sort of voice that was made for storytelling, talking about Darth Vader and the Empire, as well as the Rebel Alliance. He spoke and Ben listened, strangely drawn in by what was going on all the while.


	57. Chapter 56: Confusion and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben has a bit of an argument with his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The more that Ben listened, the more he realized something. There was something about the Rebellion that wasn’t terribly heroic. Everything that Yana said seemed to strip the varnish off them and expose them as far from decent people. Everything that Ben heard about them made him wonder if they were quite as heroic as the stories had made them out to be.  
  
They had seemed so very heroic, almost as if they could do no wrong. They had seemed almost like gods. And yet listening to Yana...were those gods really so benevolent, really so heroic? Poe seemed to disagree with him on the idea that the Rebellion wasn’t perfect, were perhaps even monsters in their own right, and Ben’s father...  
  
It had been on one of his visits that it had happened. It started off normal at first. They were in the main hold of the Falcon even as they talked, and Ben was taking in, once again, how it felt to be there, where he was too familiar with it when he was a child. Hiding in corners, shaking like a leaf to avoid his parents’ fights. Fixing the Falcon. Showing Jaina around it. The Falcon had so many memories attached to it that Ben doubted he could really count them.   
  
“So,” Han said, “How have things been going?”  
  
“The usual,” Ben said. “I’ve been training.”  
  
“Have you, huh? How’s that been going?”  
  
“Good. Yana’s been teaching me things.”  
  
“Has he?” Han sounded skeptical even as he spoke. Ben couldn’t say he liked it. First Poe, now Han. And then there was the matter of his mother. Did everyone think that Yana was somehow dangerous just because he didn’t worship the ground that the Rebellion walked on? Just because they were written in history as heroes didn’t mean that they were good guys.   
  
Saw Gerrera was one example.   
  
Still, he said, “They’re just things.”  
  
“If you say so.” And Ben picked up, If Ben asks me, he’s as slippery as the underside of a Hutt’s tail...  
  
“He’s not that bad, Dad.”  
  
“I just don’t like what he’s saying. Listen, Ben, we’re not perfect -- ’’  
  
“It’s not like,” forgetting to spend time with your son, the mental sentence finished against his will, and Ben swallowed it again. Wasn’t he being just a touch ungrateful? “Forgetting to pick up the blue milk carton.” Yeah. Good. Something not ungrateful. “It’s...torture, Dad.”  
  
“Saw always was more of an extremist,” Han said. “Far as I know, people like Mothma wanted nothing to do with him.”  
  
“Then why didn’t they try to actually kick him out?”  
  
“It’s not like they would do much. Look, kiddo, Yana may have a point on some things, but some other stuff, like the Empire -- ’’  
  
“What about the Republic? When was the last time they actually cared about anyone or anything, Dad? The Empire’s not any better, but still...”


	58. Chapter 57: Han vs. Yana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Han confronts Yana/Snoke. It doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Landing on Yavin IV was enough to make Han, for a moment, really take in the lush scenery and things of that nature, the sorts of things that he hadn’t seen in quite a while, actually. It was late evening, and the other Jedi were heading in to go to bed, so Han knew that his time was limited. The best he could do was approach Yana while he could, and from there, he would know what to do.  
  
Getting out of the Falcon, he headed towards Yana, who was heading towards the Academy almost like a furtive shadow, heading towards it as if he expected to just blend in with the others. He turned around in that moment as Han headed down the Falcon’s ramp.   
  
“Captain Solo,” Yana said. “What an unexpected pleasure -- ’’  
  
“Oh, shut up, Yana,” Han snapped. “You ain’t fooling anyone here. What kind of bantha poodoo are you teaching my son?”  
  
Yana was perfectly calm. Then, “The truth, Captain. The truth about all things. Just because it doesn't align with the romanticized view you want to peddle to your son at night doesn’t mean that it isn’t the truth.”  
  
“So this whole thing about us being terrorists is true?”  
  
Still that infuriating calm. Then, “Just because you proclaim yourselves to be heroes doesn’t mean you are heroes, Captain.”  
  
“Of course.” Han snorted. “Never mind that we were fighting against an Empire that was intent on crushing everyone who still had an ounce of free will. What about Alderaan? My wife lost her homeplanet thanks to those evil bastards!”  
  
Silence. If Han didn’t know better, he swore that something in Yana’s eyes passed over like a storm cloud. Then he said, “In war, you make decisions you never thought you would make.”  
  
“She had nightmares,” Han said. He could still remember the nights where Leia screamed in her sleep, crying out for her adoptive family. Her real family, as far as Han was concerned. Vader hadn’t earned the title of father and he never would. Just because the bastard had somehow knocked up Leia’s mom (who apparently hadn’t stuck around) didn’t mean that he was a father.   
  
_And what about you?_ a nasty voice in Han’s mind said. _Have you been much of a father to your son?_  
  
Maybe Han hadn’t been perfect. But there was a whole line between that and torture. It wasn’t like he’d tortured Ben (hell, he’d never be able to forgive himself if he did) or blown up Chandrila or Yavin, or tortured Poe, or done half the things Vader had done. There was a whole galaxy (no, whole galaxies) between what he did and what Vader did.   
  
“Only natural,” Yana said.   
  
Han sighed. “Alderaan didn’t even do anything.”  
  
“It was planning to cause an insurrection -- ’’  
  
“So that makes it all okay.” Han’s breathing became harsher. “Somehow, that makes it all okay.”  
  
“Besides, what about what your Rebellion did to the Death Star? I can’t help but wonder if you and the Empire are so different. And you...you rejoiced. In the face of civilian workers dying, you rejoiced and gloated and laughed.”  
  
“Because Yavin was about to get nuked first!”  
  
“An eye for an eye, then. Lives for lives. Cling to your childish delusions if you will, but your son knows better. Of course, in terms of morality, your son is infinitely your better.”  
  
Han paused. He didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t condemn Ben -- naive, impressionable Ben -- but he couldn’t condone him. Yana knew where exactly to hit. His love for Ben.   
  
“Fascinating,” Yana said. “You have some love left over, some of the old fatherly instinct? I didn’t think you had it in you. Being the neglectful, careless sort, I didn’t think we would even be having this conversation.”  
  
“Well, we are now. I’m telling you, pal, if you so much as go near my son again, they’ll never find your body.”  
  
Yana was calm. Too calm. Then, “Or alternatively, I’m certain that your friend Master Skywalker would be pleased to hear that you’re threatening a Jedi Master. It would be something to hear.”  
  
“You’re going to tell Luke?” Han laughed in disbelief.   
  
“I could. I could also pull out this lightsaber and end you where you stand...but that would be too far.”  
  
Han laughed. “You wanna put that to the test? I’ve met beings like you, pal. All talk, no action. Just stay the stang away from my son.”  
  
“Of course,” Yana said, in a way that suggested that no, he wouldn't.   
  
It was getting back on the Falcon that Chewie snarled at Han.  
  
“He’s brainwashing my son!” Han sighed even as he spoke. “I swear, if he keeps doing it, I’m going to Luke, no ifs, ands or buts.”  
  
Chewie grunted skeptically.   
  
“You kidding?” Han grinned despite himself. “Luke can put the fear of the Force in a being. If anyone can get Yana to lay off, it’s him.”  
  
Another skeptical grunt.   
  
“I dunno, Chewie. But we’re not giving up.”  
  
***  
It was on the way to the Academy that Snoke was all but seething.   
  
Han Solo was a fool, a deluded fool at that. At least it cast more light on the situation. Like all monsters, he fancied himself to be the hero. He fancied himself to be the hero, even after what he had donè. Even after he had floated and laughed in the face of the casualties on the Death Star, he fancied himself to be the hero. Even after everything else he’d done, he fancied himself to be the hero. All the rebels were the same, weren’t they, Snoke thought. Cruel, arrogant, deluded, preserving disorder...  
  
But Snoke would not stop teaching Ben. He could not. He would do whatever he could in order to make Ben understand fully, and when the time came, he would join him. Once he saw what Snoke was trying to do, he would join him.   
  
Snoke was sure of it. 


	59. Chapter 58: Too Many Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben confronts his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“How could you?”

To say that Ben Solo was furious would be a lot like saying that rain was wet; it was both obvious and an understatement. Already, facing him, Han was too uncomfortably reminded of fights with Leia.

“Ben -- ’’

“You threatened to kill him,” Ben said. “How could you do that to him?”

“He was trying to brainwash you!”

Silence. Ben went rigid, absolutely rigid, in that moment. And Han knew that he had chosen the wrong term.

“Brainwash?” Ben’s voice went soft, too soft. “Brainwash? Is that what you call it? So in addition to Yana’s other crimes, he’s ‘brainwashing’ me just because you disagree with him?”

“There’s a whole galaxy of difference between that and what he’s doing to you.”

“He’s one of the only beings who believed in me.”

That stung. Han didn’t know if Ben intended it, but it stung. Ben continued. “I don’t think I had an instance where Mom didn’t somehow hate me.”

“Hate you?” If the last statement stung, then this one felt like a punch. “Ben, you’re misunderstanding; your mother may have been scared for you but she doesn't hate you...”

“You didn’t feel her. And you...”

“Look, kid, there are mothers out there that hate their children. Without a doubt. But your mother doesn't hate you.”

“Then why did she think I had too much Vader in me? Me. A toddler. How can a youngling have too much Vader in them?”

Well, go on, Solo, tell him the truth, a voice in his mind taunted. Tell him.

Han felt as if words had been stolen from him in that moment.

“Well?” Ben said. “Anything you have to say?”

“Your mother...” Han paused. Could Leia have honestly thought that about their own child? Their own child, who was so precious to them both.

Or maybe just me.

“Look, I just want to say, Ben, it’s not your fault. Your mother has her share of issues, like we all do.”

“But why Vader? Dad, what are you hiding?”

The silence between them could have been like ice.

“Nothing that’s your fault, kiddo,” Han said. “Nothing you can help.” It wasn’t Ben’s fault his grandfather was a monster. It wasn’t Ben’s fault his grandfather was his grandfather.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“It would break your heart.”

Ben looked at him in confusion.

“Your mother...your mother has her share of issues. The thing about Vader -- she’s been fighting against him ever since she was a teenager. I don’t think she actually thinks of you like Vader, though. You’re a good kid.”

Ben smiled, if faintly. Good kid. Sometimes it was those reminders he gravitated towards too easily, going to them like a starving kath hound looking for scraps. But why was his father dancing around the subject of Vader?

He would have to find out, sooner or later.


	60. Chapter 59: Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which unpleasant truths come to light. A.k.a., the chapter where Ransolm Casterfo Ruins Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Warning for slut-shaming language and mentions of (not carried out) child murder. I don't endorse either of them. The character saying them is a horrible human being. Enough said.

  
It was when Ben was on the brink of turning twenty-four that his world as he knew it changed forever.

It had started as an ordinary day, even though Ben had a feeling that something was going to happen that would turn his galaxy upside-down. Ben had headed off to the Academy (though not before kissing Poe even as the latter headed off to the hangar), did some practicing, went to his lessons. It was when he went to listen to the Holonet that it all changed.

Mike was already sitting in front of the Holonet with Annie when Ben came in. He turned to look at Ben. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Ben sat comfortably next to him. “What’s going on?”

“They’re going to confirm First Senator hearings.” Mike sighed. “Knowing the Senate, it’s probably going to be a whole bunch of idiocy disguised as getting stuff done. Uh, no offense or anything.”

“None taken.” If there was something Ben sympathized with his mother on, it was Senators. He’d never liked Senators. When he had met some of them when he was little, he hadn’t understood exactly what was going on, but he sensed enough to know that they were far from good beings. Slippery as a Hutt’s tail, as Kes Dameron would say.

They watched even as the proceedings went on. One of the Senators describing his mother's many and sundry good qualities, her acts of heroism. So far, Ben thought, it seemed that his mother was off to a good start in terms of winning the role of First Senator. Then one of the Senators, Ransolm Casterfo, spoke. He spoke of trust, and how somehow, Leia Organa did not deserve that trust.

Ben furrowed his brow, leaned in. What did Casterfo mean, exactly? What was he talking about? What was so horrible that his mother didn’t deserve the trust of those in the galaxy? Even as Casterfo continued, Ben wondered what exactly he was talking about, what he meant.

“He’s probably just lying, Ben,” Annie said. “Come on; why don’t we -- ’’

And it was then that Ben heard it. Words that felt like Casterfo had lobbed a grenade into Ben’s galaxy.

His mother was Darth Vader’s daughter.

Darth Vader was his grandfather.

It couldn’t be.

Ben could barely hear the holonet in that moment. It felt as if the color had drained from the world around him, as if he was temporarily disconnected from the world. And in his mind, he was already in denial. No no no Casterfo has to be trying to discredit my mother he can't be right he can’t --

And yet it was true. His mother confirmed it just after.

“Ben!” Annie’s voice sounded almost unreal. “Ben, are you all right?”

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. Even he -- even he couldn’t possibly be this tainted...

“Ben!”

He had to do something. Had to run. Had to hide somewhere, had to run as far away as he possibly could, run until he couldn’t see the Holonet anymore --

He ran. Annie called his name, only for Ben to ignore her, to continue running as fast as he could. He had a feeling that if possible, he would run forever.

It couldn’t be.

It just couldn’t. Even he couldn’t be so wretchedly, damnably sick...

And yet it was one of those things that like with what Yana had told him, it explained so much. Too much, actually. No wonder she hated you. No wonder she looked at you like you were a bomb waiting to go off, a minefield that could be detonated if others weren’t careful. It was your grandfather all along.

Ben screamed. There weren’t any words to his screaming. There wasn’t any logic to it either. He simply screamed. He knew full well he sounded like he was screaming nonsense even as he pounded his fists against the trees, he knew that others who saw him would most likely think he was being ridiculous, and yet he couldn’t stop. He had to let it escape him. By the stars, he did. He screamed and wept until he was all but wrung dry.

It was once the fog of anger cleared that Ben could understand fully. Once the rage had been let out, the rage and the shame and the confusion, all against Yavin trees, Ben could think, think clearer, think more lucidly, for a certain definition of lucid. At least he knew what he had to do.

Meditation wouldn’t help. Meditation was for those who weren't somehow tainted. He was dirty. Filthy, completely filthy. Unclean.

He needed to get as numb as he could so maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t hurt anymore.

And he knew exactly where to go.

The bar on Yavin was open, thank the Force. Ben was already craving a drink. His first drink, at age twenty-three, and it was all over Casterfo and what he had revealed.

I guess I owe the bastard one...

Ben entered the bar, and he was already grateful that there were some beings who were already too preoccupied with their own conversations and problems to really pay attention to a Jedi who needed, desperately, to get drunk.

Preferably as drunk as possible. He couldn’t tell Poe. Poe deserved better. Better than someone like him. Better than a tainted Jedi, better than a Jedi who had never been good enough, never fit in, never stood a chance.

The cantina band was already playing some heavy isotope song about the virtues of ale. You don’t have to tell me, Ben thought. I could use one. Stars, I could use one. He wondered absently if the matter of Vader stood out all over him, if someone could just tell he was Vader’s grandchild by just looking at him.

Vader’s grandchild.

By the stars, why didn’t Mom tell me?

Well, a nastier voice said in him, Why didn’t she do a lot of things, for that matter? Why didn’t she treat you like a being and not just a grenade? Why didn’t she let you stay when you were just a child? Why did she send you off to the Jedi as opposed to letting you stay with her and Dad? Just brushed under the cargo ramp, Leia Organa-Solo’s dirty little secret...

Ben blinked. He already felt his eyes starting to spill over, and he knew that he needed alcohol.

By the stars, he needed alcohol.

He walked over towards the bartender and spoke. “Hi,” he said, trying to make himself heard over the music. It was as good a place to start as any.

The bartender, a pretty, small and slender young woman juggling lemons, put down her lemons just for the moment to look at her new customer. “Hey,” she said. “Up for a drink?”

“I’ll take a Corellian ale,” Ben said. “And keep it coming.”

The bartender looked at him in sympathy. “Looks like you had one hell of a night.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

The bartender poured him a Corellian ale. Ben looked at it closely. He didn’t think that he would actually be drowning his sorrows after a Holonet report, but here he was. The Holonet report that changed everything. He supposed he owed Vader one. No matter how hard he tried, it didn’t matter, because he was tainted. Contaminated. Unclean.

Unclean...

so stupid for thinking that I could actually change my luck, so stupid, so naive...

Ben raised his glass. “To Darth Vader,” Ben said, sarcastically. “Thanks. For everything.”

And he drank.

***  
It was heading back from flight practice that Poe was confronted by one of the pilots.

“So, Dameron,” the pilot said, “How’s it feel knowing you’re married to a freak?”

“Ben’s not a freak.”

“Is he, huh?” said the pilot. “I heard on the holonews that he’s Vader’s grandson.”

“What?”

“Oh yeah,” said the pilot. “Senator Organa said so too. How’s it feel being married, being complicit, in everything the little freak Jedi does?”

And it was in that moment that Poe felt as if he had been struck in the chest by a Gamorrean. Ben, Vader’s grandson? Even that idea was enough to make Poe wonder -- had his mother known? Had his father?

No, they couldn’t have known. Had Senator Organa ever told them? Had she ever told her son? Had Mr. Solo? Had anyone?

Oh, Ben, Poe could only think. I’m so sorry. If there was any way to reach out and hug Ben in that moment, Poe would have done it in a heartbeat.

The pilot continued. “How’s it feel, being married to the grandspawn of Darth Vader, being his little whore?” Beat. “Except whores get paid, don’t they?”

Poe gritted his teeth.

“What did you see in him anyway?” said the pilot. “He’s an ugly loser.”

“He’s not,” Poe said.

“ ‘Course he is. And a disgrace to the Jedi Order and the Republic. Do his parents know? Because they should have drowned -- ’’

Poe lashed out with his fist.

Crunch.

The member of Black Squadron stumbled back, nose bloody in that moment. Poe looked at his fist, which was now coated in blood, shaking. “Anyone else got any input?” he said.

No one spoke. They mostly seemed stunned that Poe Dameron, known as not only the best pilot in the Republic but one of the nicest guys in the galaxy, had actually thrown a punch.

“Good,” Poe said. “Because I don’t ever want to do that again. Ben Solo’s infinitely better than you. And every kid’s innocent. Completely innocent. No matter who their family is.”

He stalked out. Jess whispered something along the lines of “Great job, Poe!”, and Snap’s “Hopefully Madine’s not going to write him up on this”. Poe knew that for Ben, being written up for throwing a punch really was something he was willing to endure.

He loved him, stars he loved him. And he would do anything to save him. Including finding him.

***  
While Poe was off trying to find his husband, Snoke was on his way to find Ben as well. He was still upset in regards to what he had learned, because he did not understand the glory he was about to inherit.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t admire Casterfo, just a little. What he had done was absolutely flawless in knocking Leia Organa-Solo off her throne. Snoke could remember her from some of her speeches on the Holonet, from some of the communiques she had to Ben, and most of all just from watching her. She was so arrogant, so self-righteous, so narcissistic, so convinced that her cause was right and just, that she was simply better than the rest. She relished in her own anger and hatred as well. All towards her father, some of which she acted out on her son.

She was no hero. She could pretend to be, but in the end, she was a fraud and a terrorist. Ren had made her that way.

Snoke reached out towards Ben, where he was in the cantina. He could feel Ben’s grief, Ben’s outrage at being lied to, Ben’s confusion, and most of all, self-loathing.

And that was one thing that Snoke couldn’t say he admired. After all, Casterfo had been incredibly clumsy in revealing Senator Organa-Solo’s heritage, and Ben could not realize the tremendous heritage that lay before him. He could not realize the glory that lay in his background, how exemplary Vader had been.

He had found Ben. Now...now he could show Ben the truth about himself, he could show Ben the glory that awaited him, and he could tell Ben everything that he had had to hide before.

He would show Ben the truth, and it would be glorious.

***  
Back in the cantina, Ben was deep in conversation with the bartender.

“So that toast of yours...”

“What ‘bout it?” At this rate, Ben was talking about a whole range of things, none of which probably made sense to outsiders, but made perfect sense to him. The taste of Corellian ale. Politics. Poe. All of it in a sort of disjointed way that sounded as if he were on the verge of tears.

Of course, considering the circumstances, some degree of weepy drunk was to be expected.

“Not that Vader didn’t screw up a lot of lives,” said the bartender, “But what’d he specifically do?”

“He’s m’ grandfather.” Ben laughed even as he said it. “Kriffed up, isn’t it?”

“Bantha crap.”

“What? I’m not kiddin’; Casterfo said it on the Holonet.” Ben laughed; it sounded half-deranged. “Why would the guy on the Holonet lie?”

“He’s a Senator. It’s what they do for a living. I mean, they’ve been promising an end to this war against Snoke for a while. Guess who’s still at war?” The bartender sighed. “Anyone who thinks that the Senate actually gives a bantha’s backside about us is delusional.”

“Has to be someone.”

“That, kiddo, is where you’re wrong.”

“ ‘M sorry.”

“Not your fault,” said the bartender. “Nothing you can help.”

They both went quiet for a moment. In the background, a heavy isotope song about heartbreak had started up. Something appropriate about that, the less alcohol-drenched part of Ben thought. And he was all but rambling

“It jus’ all makes sense. I tried -- dammit, I tried so hard to fit in, and I never did...I tried so hard to make my mother proud an’...an’...”

The bartender listened carefully.

“An’ she never told me.” If one was to listen to Ben’s rambles right now, he sounded a lot like his father when his father was similarly intoxicated (albeit for different reasons). “She never told me. She kept my own heritage from me when I had a kriffing right to know, she treated me like I was some...some minefield waiting to go off when I was a kid...”

“How early?”

Ben hiccuped. “Stars, as early as I can remember. She wouldn’ say anythin’. I just knew.”

“So from toddlerhood? Wow. I’m sorry, kiddo.”

“S’okay. You didn’ do it.” Ben downed another ale. He exhaled a belch, before clapping a hand abruptly over his mouth. “Kriffing hell...sorry.”

“I’ve seen and heard worse, believe me.”

Ben laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Hate to see your definition of ‘worse’.”

***  
By the time Snoke showed up at the cantina, Ben was already unconscious from...well, how much alcohol did he really take in, actually? That was something Snoke couldn’t say.

The cantina music had changed to some sort of would-be dance anthem that only annoyed Snoke with its heavy beats and its singer going on about the varied joys of partying and alcohol. It was a good thing that Snoke was wearing his hood in that moment, because otherwise, he had a feeling that his cover would already have been blown.

“Hello,” Snoke said.

“Friend of his?” said the bartender.

“Yes,” Snoke said. And it wasn’t a lie. Not really, not truly. “I’m here to take him home.”

“Just take care of him.”

Oh, ma’am, why would I not? And some would contest the definition of taking care of someone but in Snoke’s view, he was taking care of Ben. He always had. When his parents were too self-absorbed to care about Ben, Snoke had stepped in to help. When his parents argued, Snoke comforted him. And more. Snoke had always been there. Now was the time to finish the construction of this perfect weapon to balance the Force and preserve Milara.

“I will, ma’am.” Snoke rumbled, before scooping the unconscious form of Ben Solo into his arms and, like a monster out of a horror holo, heading towards the ship.


	61. Chapter 60: Necessary Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which just about all is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Trigger warning for slut-shaming language and implied child abuse.

By the time Poe managed to walk away from the cantina, he wasn’t going to lie; he was already panicking. He had taken a while to actually get to the cantina (after being reprimanded personally by Madine for throwing a punch) but when he did, Ben was already gone. He had felt a pinprick of Ben’s presence in the cantina, or thought he did, but he had ultimately been wrong.

Sort of. When he had asked the bartender, she said, “Oh, a friend of his left with him a while ago. Tall fellow. Hooded.”

And Poe already knew what she was talking about. Yana.

Now it seemed he just had to figure out where Yana was.

It wasn’t as if Yana had possibly kidnapped Ben, had he? Yana was definitely a sketchy sort, to say the least, but would he go that far as to kidnap --

No. Yana had just taken Ben home, like the bartender had said.

Question was, did Yana even know where home was?

So Poe asked around. He asked the others where Yana had gone, not that they were willing to give him much information. He could swear that they were whispering about him too. “Solo’s harlot”, they called him. “Must have seduced him off the path of the Light”, they said. Things of that nature. And they were still talking about Ben as well. Things like saying that they just knew that the moment that Vader’s grandspawn was dropped off on their doorstep that he would cause nothing but trouble. Spoiled, selfish, angry...

None of those adjectives really matched up with who Ben was. Even his temper...he was too gentle, too kind to really let it roam free.

But it didn't matter to the Order. They had always hated Ben, Poe knew now. All over something that he had no control over. It didn’t matter that Vader’s shame wasn’t Ben’s; they apparently thought it was. Or they would have looked for any excuse to hate Ben.

And that hurt the most. To think that the Order would have taken up any excuse to hate this glorious, wonderful man...

Poe sighed, turned away from the whispering crowds.

He was going to find Ben, no matter what the cost. And he was going to get him home.

***  
The Star Destroyer the _Liberator_ had been named if only in tribute to its owner’s desire to do good. It was a reminder, for Snoke, of what he was supposed to do, what he was supposed to have accomplished. He had set out, long ago, back when he was that...repulsive being known as Aldric of Milara

_and how he hated that name, he truly did. It reminded him too much of the boy who had been so weak he had to run away when Venkar’s bombs hit, the boy who had been a victim. Only the strong survived, he had learned long ago. Better to be the one fighting back than the one getting hurt_

to free Milara. Freeing Milara had been completed. Now, establishing balance, freedom, safety was his priority.

He laid Ben on the bed of one of the rooms, and Snoke was struck by how peaceful, how vulnerable he seemed in that moment. His hair fell around his face, and his eyes were closed. In sleep, he was seemingly innocent, delicate-looking, but Snoke knew better. This was a man of power, this was a man of skill. This was the man who could assist the First Order in their quest. A nexus of the living Force.

And after...?

After, would he have to dispose of Ben? It was strange to think about. Had he fallen victim to sentiment as Vader before him?

That was something that was unsettling to think about, actually.

It wasn’t unusual, of course -- Vader was not the first Dark Sider who fell victim to sentiment, but hopefully he would be the last. Snoke was not going to fall victim to sentiment. He would not and could not allow himself to be weak, to let his Empire come crumbling down.

For now, he had to focus on the present.

Soon enough, he’d have to explain himself to Ben. And if he did it wrong, he would get the usual self-righteous Jedi accusations that Yoda had especially been quite good at

_how far you have fallen, Aldric_

and the protestations that Ben would never join him. Perhaps, even if he did it right, actually.

He hadn’t started out on the Dark Side, of course. He hadn’t planned to necessarily join the Dark Side the moment he left the Order as much as simply knowing how disaffected he was, how utterly sick of it all he truly was. He hadn’t started out on the path of red lightsabers and Force Lightning. In fact, one could say he wasn’t formally a part of such a thing, but something infinitely greater. A combination of the Dark and the Light.

And Ben Organa-Solo...it seemed that Ben was everything Snoke had ever wanted.

Yes. Having the boy at his side, at his feet, training under him as his apprentice...in the end, that was all he wanted in the end. A stray lock of hair had fallen into Ben’s eyes and Snoke, carefully, brushed it away. He looked as if the worries and pains of the day had been sucked away from him. As he should be, Snoke thought. The expectations and know-nothing judgments of the Jedi did not matter here.

Or for that matter, the Republic.

The Emperor needed someone to show off the galaxy to, and so did Snoke for that matter. He had had other apprentices, but besides Lisaris, they had died or disappointed him in other ways. Ben...he was the perfect balance of Light and Dark. Some would claim that Snoke was an abomination of the Dark Side, of the Sith, but that was too simple. Lies that the Jedi told themselves so they could get to sleep at night after their latest kills. Lies that the Jedi told themselves to justify their own acts of cruelty.

Snoke was beyond anyone’s petty labels. Aldric of Milara had been shackled by the labels of others, from filthy, disgusting freak to Jedi to dangerous traitor (never mind he wanted nothing to do with either Separatists or Jedi). Snoke had thrown off those shackles and become first of a new order.

The First Order. It had been in progress for quite some time. It was originally called the Order of Ren. But in the end, even that did not do the purpose of the First Order justice. For they were the first of a new age.

An age that Snoke knew that he wanted Ben present for. For him to be there...there could be no greater honor. As his right arm, the eyes and ears of the First Order. Someone he could show off the galaxy to.

***  
Ben woke, and he felt almost as if he were swimming up out of sleep. Like someone long submerged in deep waters just rising to the surface. His head throbbed; then again, considering how he’d spent last night drinking, no wonder. I am never taking in another Corellian ale as long as I live.

His location...well, it was anyone’s guess as to where he actually was. The most that Ben could decipher was the fact that it had the sort of architecture that he couldn’t say that he’d seen before. The fine carvings, the fine structure, the writing that was...

Milaran.

Whoever was in charge of this place, or whoever built it, seemed to have a fondness for the Milaran language. Milaran design as well. There were carvings on the stone that seemed to be very Milaran. Old symbols, symbols for balance, symbols for justice.

There were voices. Voices in the distance. A man with a haughty, bombastic voice, practicing a speech -- and what was already obnoxious sounded like pure noise to Ben’s ears. Even here, it sounded almost like the man with the haughty, bombastic voice was trying too hard to be threatening.

Muffled voices like the one that Ben had heard in the cave, voices that were still too loud. “...this man is the key to our salvation like the Supreme Leader believes?” one male said.

“Possibly.” A woman.

“He is a Jedi. Too pacifistic. Too weak. Would never have the stomach.” said the man.

“We have to trust the Supreme Leader.” The woman, again. “He knows what he’s doing, in his wisdom, in his vision. He always has.”

So the Supreme Leader wants me for something. Ben took a deep breath. Whoever this Supreme Leader was, Ben was not going to give into him. He would never join him -- a murderer, a monster.

Footsteps. Then Ben’s heart lifted -- Yana was here, right now. At last, he had an ally in this strange place! How they could leave. Get out of here before the Supreme Leader arrived.

“Hello, Ben.”

“Master Yana. Thank the Force. I don’t know what happened, but we’ve got to get out of here now -- ’’

“We don’t need to.”

“What are you talking about? The Supreme Leader, whoever he is...” Ben looked around. He could have sworn that he heard the words “Supreme Leader” from the man. He could have sworn...

“The Supreme Leader is unnecessary at the moment, Ben.”

“Then where am I?” And by the way, Master Yana, what’s going on? None of this makes sense. None of this is right.

“In terms of where you are, you’re on the Supreme Leader’s Star Destroyer, the _Liberator_. You’re over Ziost. Fascinating place. I can’t say, actually, that it has been used for quite some time.” Yana looked around. “Once upon a time it was one of the bastions of the Sith. It hasn’t quite achieved the glory it once had, however. Not since Endor. Not since your uncle helped destroy Vader and the Emperor.”

How does he know about all this? Had Yana associated himself with a Sith --

No. He had to have just gone there at some point. He couldn’t possibly have done something so horrible --

Yana took a deep breath. “I owe you an explanation, Ben. From the beginning I have. I should apologize for our current circumstances. You most likely think I kidnapped you, didn't you?”

“Not really.” Ben couldn’t bear to think that Yana could have done this.

“There is...much I need to explain.”

“What are you even talking about?”

Yana was quiet for a while. Then, “I lied to you, Ben. From the beginning I have. It’s regrettable, but it was a necessary fiction. If I had walked into the Enclave as I really was, it’s likely Skywalker would have killed me on sight.”

And it was then that Ben felt it. Heat. Pure heat, practically streaming off Yana. Heat that, as a child, had been strangely enthralling, even comforting.

“I know you,” he said. “I’ve felt you.” In dreams, in nightmares.

Yana’s eyes twinkled beneath his hood. “You have no idea how far I crossed to find you, do you, Ben?”

***  
It was meanwhile, on the _Liberator_ , that Luke Skywalker and Alora Danes-Skywalker searched for their missing nephew. It had taken a while for Poe to run into someone who could actually help, but Luke had promised to let him know when Ben was home safe, as was Yana.

Unfortunately, what had started as an already big problem only seemed to get worse in a hurry.

Even as Luke looked through the transparisteel window down at the marching stormtroopers -- all in perfect formation -- listened to the borderline scream of a man giving a speech, he already felt sick. It was happening again. How could they have missed something as significant as this? That Snoke was planning on all but rebuilding the Empire?

“How long was he building this?” Luke said.

Alora shook her head. “I don’t know. But we’re ending it.”

“Yeah.” Luke set his jaw. “We’re ending it.”

***  
Ben stood, or tried to stand, in the room with Yana -- no, he thought. The living shadow that, as a youngling, he had been strangely comforted by. He was no longer a child, but he knew that presence, he knew that voice...

The presence that his mother had been frightened by. But she had never understood, had she? How it had comforted him through the nights when she and Dad had fought.

Yana continued. “I suppose I haven’t properly introduced myself. There was much I couldn’t tell you, Ben...at least until you were ready. You likely see me as quite the sinister figure, don’t you?”

“N-not really.” In truth, Ben couldn’t say what exactly he was. What bizarre manner of Force user are you? And what do you want?

“I should clarify, Ben, I am not Jedi. But I am not Sith. Master Skywalker,” and here, Yana’s lips twisted in what was clearly distaste, “Saw to that at Endor. A generous dose of manipulation helped in that regard.”

“Uncle Luke’s not...Palpatine.”

“That,” said Yana, “May be a matter of only one side of the truth being presented. Did you know that your uncle tricked your grandfather? That your uncle manipulated him to his death through false promises of love?”

“Uncle Luke would never do that!”

“As a young man, he would have done anything.”

Ben already felt as if he was struck in the chest. What was he supposed to believe? That Uncle Luke would even do something so horrible? That Uncle Luke would manipulate Vader -- that Vader was even the victim in all of this? None of this made any sense.

Yana continued. “He would have killed me no matter what my agenda was. Never mind that I am no Sith. I may be a Dark Sider, Ben, but I am not Sith.”

“What?”

“Considering your current state, it’s likely a good idea for you to have some water, Ben. I doubt I can debate morality with you while you have a hangover.” Yana summoned a glass of water and handed it to Ben. Ben eyed it suspiciously, and Yana sighed. “If I wanted to kill you, you would be facing me and armed. You don’t have to worry about me poisoning you.”

Ben took a tentative sip, but there was no poison. When he was done, he doubted that he was really better, but at least he was improved a bit from how he was when he first woke up.

“How are you feeling?” Yana said.

“Never better. But really, Yana, who are you?”

“As I said, I am not Sith, Ben. The Sith as you know them are dead. Besides, petty labels won’t sum up our mission.”

“Our?”

“Your confusion’s understandable. There are more of us.”

“How much more?”

“Plenty more. We are called the First Order. We were formed not long after the fall of the Empire at Jakku.”

“So you’re a...continuation of the Empire?”

“We’re stronger than the Empire. We’ve learned from their mistakes.”

And Ben could see it. Stormtroopers and Star Destroyers, just like the nightmarish parts of his parents’ stories. Walkers. TIE fighters. The monsters of his parents’ stories. And Yana was part of all this -- no, he thought as another image crossed his mind, overseeing all this.

“I trusted you,” Ben said, “And all this time, you’ve been a...a Dark Sider!”

Yana looked, briefly, pained. Then, more calmly, “I see no reason why you can’t trust me, Ben. And any further labels are both insulting and inaccurate.”

“Then who are you?”

“Are labels that important to you, Ben?”

“I want to know!” Ben said. “I want to know how you could have lied to us like this. Who are you, Yana? If you lied about being a Jedi -- ’’

“I did not lie about that entirely.”

“You did -- ’’

“I was once a Jedi. Long ago.” Yana’s voice sounded disgusted even as he spoke, as if there was something about that aspect that was distasteful, something about that aspect that was painful to acknowledge. “That was before they betrayed me.”

“How would they have betrayed you?”

“Are you so surprised? It is far from the first time that they have done so to their students. I was merely one of many.”

“The Jedi -- ’’

“ -- care nothing for those they’ve sworn to protect. They care less for them than one would for garbage. At least garbage gets some form of acknowledgment and use for those who wish for it.” Yana’s voice became softer as he said, “You have too earnest a soul for an Order such as the Jedi. So I do not refer to you. I refer to those around you. Those are the sorts who betrayed me. Those before you, who cared nothing for the suffering of others.”

“How?”

Yana sighed. “If you are so resistant to this fact, let me show you, Ben. Open yourself to me and I will show you. Open yourself to me and take what you long to know.”

Ben almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Yana was good as taunting him, goading him to read his mind. It was wrong, and yet even as the first image of a scared, frightened little boy brushed across his mind, he could not help but reach in.

“Even you were a child once, weren’t you?” he said. “Your name was Aldric. Aldric of Milara.”

Yana snarled. “That name,” he said, “Is an ugly, weak name and best left forgotten. Aldric is dead. He deserves to be dead.”

“Why?” Ben said.

“Because he was a weak, disgusting, tainted child,” Yana said. “So I destroyed him.”

***  
Even as they got closer, Luke was the one who discovered the datapads that seemed to be deliberately left out. For Ben? Luke couldn’t say he knew. For anyone who stumbled across them? He couldn't say he knew either. He truly couldn’t say.

But reading them gave them a clearer picture of Snoke -- of he who had been Aldric of Milara. He who had called himself Yana. And even that was enough to make Luke’s hands tighten so hard that the datapad he was holding threatened to break.

“Luke,” Alora said, “What’s wrong?”

“I was so stupid. How could I have done this? How could I have let him in like this?”

“It wasn’t your fault, Luke. Can I see it?”

Luke handed her the datapads. Alora’s brow furrowed, then, “Looks like our ‘friend’ Snoke was pretty particular about this. Pretty cunning too. We were all pretty much deceived. It’s not your fault.” Then, “So, all this...all of it was for Milara? But he could have done anything else. Just about anything other than this.”

“I know. It must have been desperation.” Luke sighed. “I can at least feel some pity for the boy he was.”

“I know.” Alora took a deep breath. “So what do we do now?”

“We’re not going to kill him,” Luke said. “The Jedi don’t simply kill, after all. They don’t simply kill opponents in cold blood. We’re going to take him into custody.”

“You think that he’ll see the inside of a courtroom?”

“He will,” Luke said. “Besides, I can feel him.” The strange thing was that even behind everything that Snoke had done, there was a certain pitiable edge to him. Luke couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but unlike the Emperor, he seemed to be in significant amounts of pain. The agony streaming from him seemed to be akin to a sea of it.

_You are lonely, aren’t you, in your way? Angry, abandoned...it’s all bubbling beneath, isn’t it?_

“I don’t know what happened to him,” Luke said. “But it seems that our manipulator has his own troubles. Killing him would just be another murder. Saving him...perhaps there is hope there.”

***

It seemed that Ben was all but bombarded by images of Yana’s -- no, Aldric’s -- past.

_\-- Aldric, shivering in a corner. “Asha, please don’t hurt me. Asha, please forgive me...” --_

_\-- a female Jedi with sleek black hair squatting next to a shivering, trembling older Aldric, thirteen in human years. “What is your name, child?”_

“ _I am no child.” And that was true on multiple levels. Aldric had never really had a chance to be a child --_

\-- _meeting Yoda, being bemused by his speech patterns but liking him nonetheless. Defending him from other students. Calling him iri -- the small wise one who had been a comfort to Aldric in his time at the Academy --_

\-- _exploring caves with Yoda, going through tunnels to collect crystals for their lightsabers. --_

\-- _Aldric, sitting in a dark room for hours, as if meditation could force out the monsters that tormented him so_ \--

\-- _Aldric, a little older, standing before the Council, earnest, passionate. “My homeworld is suffering,” he said. “It’s been under constant bombardment from the terrorist Venkar. Please, Masters, you have to help us.”_

_The Grand Master, a wizened woman, spoke. “I’m sorry, Aldric,” she said. “We can’t afford to act now. It’s too impulsive to simply rush into a war zone without preparation.”_

_“My people are dying,” Aldric said._

_“I’m sorry, Aldric. I really am sorry -- but we’ll have to meditate on this. We can’t risk acting rashly.”_

“She couldn’t have said that,” Ben said. “She couldn’t have. She treated you...” He bit his lip. “She shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“Unfortunately, this is far from new,” Yana said. “You know the stories of the Mandalorian Wars, how the Council did not intervene then when beings were dying across the galaxy. Milara, to them, was simply less than garbage. I doubt there is any explanation why my homeplanet was too worthless for the Council to not bother to save it.”

\-- _Aldric, much older, recording a farewell to Yoda, his dearest friend. “If you are watching this, I am no doubt long gone. I am sorry, Yoda, but I have listened to my homeworld be tormented long enough. I have heard the cries of my people, and they cannot be ignored forever. I do not blame you in the slightest. If one asks why I have joined what may very well be the Lost Eighteen, tell them it was not your fault. Forgive yourself, Yoda. And never doubt that I am and always will be your brother. Never doubt that I care for you.” A pause. “May the Force be with you, Yoda, and may_ ren _protect you on your journey.” --_

“You were one of the Lost Twenty?”

“Yes.” Yana paused. “For my part.”

“It couldn’t have been easy,” Ben said. “Leaving.”

“It was a terrible loss,” Yana said. “Yoda...he was dear to me. Before he betrayed me.” A layer of anger, of genuine pain entered his voice, something that Ben wouldn’t have expected from a Dark Sider. Could Dark Siders feel? It was remarkable still. “Before he went after me. We fought, I fell into the river. It is thanks to my own abilities I did not drown, but the scars remain. That day I left my old name behind and embraced my true name.”

“You can’t be.” And yet Ben knew what Yana was referring to.

“There must always be a Snoke to save Milara. And I...I merely rose to the challenge. Some call me a monster. I am merely what ren and Milara and the galaxy demand I be.”

Silence. Then Ben said, “Your face...may I see it?”

Ben knew he was already treading on thin ice as it was just by making that request, and yet he had to know, had to understand.

Snoke hesitated. Then he lowered his hood slowly and it was there that Ben saw his face for the first time, fully, in the light. His face was covered in scars, and burns, the most horrific scar reaching down the center of his head, all but splitting it in two, and Ben knew that was from the river. That had been where he had nearly drowned. The scars were horrific, but they were also remarkable. They were proof that Snoke had come through something horrific and lived.

“Your eyes,” Snoke said. “Are they that horrifying to behold, my scars?” And Ben knew what he was thinking. It streamed off him in waves. _He is so terribly lovely, so unscarred, and I -- I am monstrous -- ugly_ \--

Ben shook his head. “You’re not ugly. Not even a little.”

Snoke laughed; it sounded like a bark. A startled bark at that. “If you truly think that, then I daresay that you need to get your eyes examined.”

“No. You’re not. And it doesn’t matter. You’re...” Ben bit his lip. “You’re just a man.”

Silence.

“I doubt I ever can be simply a man.”

“You are,” Ben said. “You truly are. You still have the potential to be.”

“Ren set my course long ago.”

“So everything you went through was in the service of ren?” Ben shook his head. “I don't believe that. What do you want?”

Silence. Then, “Stability for Milara. Freedom. Healing this broken galaxy and making it strong again. And I want you to come with me.”

“Why me?”

“Well,” said Snoke, “In establishing paradise, is it not fitting that you need someone to rule it with? And the galaxy has been torn apart too long by struggles between Light and Dark. You...you have them as part of your heritage. The Council tried to grind them out but that only made them stronger, did it not?”

“Yes,” Ben said. Even that realization was unsettling. ”It made them too strong.”

“They did not understand what lay within you. So they tried to suppress it. To grind it out. They were afraid and you suffered for it. I am sorry, Ben.”

“You didn’t do anything to encourage them.”

“I did by not taking you away from that...hellhole of a place. I would have given you so much. If I held the galaxy in the palm of my hand, I would give it to you freely.” Snoke looked at him, and Ben could swear that his eyes were blazing all the while.

“You mean every word of it.” Ben couldn’t help but be surprised if only at that. After all, one would never expect someone like Snoke to tell the truth. Perhaps there was the truth -- right there, in those words.

And it was then that Aunt Alora’s voice cut through the air.

“Ben, thank the Force!”

Snoke and Ben spun around in that moment, Snoke standing in front of Ben -- facing Aunt Alora and Uncle Luke.


	62. Chapter 61: Downfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke arrives on the scene with Alora and things go to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

  
It was in this room, this place, that Ben already felt as if their destinies were being decided. Uncle Luke and Aunt Alora on one side, Snoke on the other -- three people that Ben loved utterly, three people that he couldn’t bear to see face off. Three people that even looking from Uncle Luke and Aunt Alora to Snoke, Ben couldn’t feel more torn.

“Thank the Force that you’re all right, Ben,” Uncle Luke said. “Did he hurt you?”

“He didn’t. He really didn’t.” Ben swallowed. “Uncle Luke, you’ve got to understand -- ’’

“How can I understand?”

Ben stood between them, suddenly stricken with love -- not the love he felt for Poe, but the love he felt for two paternal figures, two beings who had guided him over the years, two beings he had adored. Two beings he could not bear to have, so suddenly, turn on one another, or for that matter die. He couldn’t bear the idea. Even standing between them, he prayed that they would not so much as raise either of their lightsabers. _Please, stars, don’t let them --_

He stood between the both of them, feeling love already so powerful that it was practically about to burst out of him. _By the Force, don’t let them raise their sabers against each other. Let them be at peace. Let them..._

“Uncle,” Ben said. “Please, don’t hurt him. He’s hurt, he needs help -- ’’

“I know,” Uncle Luke said, “And I’m not going to hurt him.” Unless I have to, was the unspoken message. And Ben was already frightened for what was going to happen, to all four of them.

***

Luke stepped forward, and already, he felt as if he were making the first steps towards the place where there was no return.

“I come in peace.”

Yana looked at him critically. “Your weapon says otherwise.”

“I know. I’m not going to use it. I have no intentions to strike.”

Yana tilted his head. “Curious. You are sincere, aren’t you?”

“I have no desire to hurt you,” Luke said. “I have no desire for things to come to blows. Surrender, Yana, and we may yet show you mercy.”

“The name Yana was a fiction. A necessary one. You never would have let me live if you knew who I really was.”

“Who are you, then?”

Silence.

After that silence, with Yana rumbling his name for Luke to hear, Luke felt a sudden chill. Snoke had been there all along. Snoke had infiltrated the Order. And Luke hadn’t known.

“How?”

“It’s not like it hasn’t been done before,” said Snoke. “I do regret that I had to lie to you, Skywalker. I would have preferred speaking to you Leader to leader, telling you the truth, but your response would have been far from beneficial to me. You never would have understood. There would have been too much belief in the Code for you.”

“What is there to understand?”

Silence. Then, “Master Skywalker, have you ever heard of the concept of _ren_?”

“Fate. Balance,” Luke said. “But you haven’t answered my question, Ya -- _Snoke_. What is there to understand?”

“All this, all of it exists because I seek balance.”

Luke could have laughed in disbelief. “Balance? How is resurrecting the Empire going to bring balance?”

“We’re not resurrecting the Empire. We’re making a stronger one from the ashes of the old.”

“How will that bring balance?”

“More than the Republic ever could. Or the Jedi Order.”

Across from him, Ben gave him a pleading look. “Just listen to what he has to say,” he said. “He has good reasons for it. I know he does.”

“Ben,” Luke said, “You can’t possibly agree with him, can you?”

“You don’t know what the orphanage on Milara did to him,” Ben said. “They tortured him.” Beat. “Do you want to live in a galaxy that lets atrocities like these happen?”

“No. But Ben...surely his way isn’t the way to do it.”

“Is the Republic’s way any better?” Ben said. “Is yours? After all, where were you when other beings were suffering? Where were you, uncle?”

“I couldn’t rush in rashly -- ’’

Snoke scoffed. “A Jedi euphemism for cowardice. You continue to amaze me, Skywalker.”

“I -- ’’

“You are a coward. Completely and utterly. You...you couldn’t even stand up to the Emperor. Or your father. In terms of your cowardice, it knows no bounds.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Luke said. “And I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you into custody, Snoke. For everyone’s good.”

He could swear in that moment that Ben’s breath hitched in horror. Luke couldn't say he liked this either. But if it meant saving others’ lives, he would do it in a heartbeat.

***

If Ben was going to admit it, he didn’t like what he was doing, actually. He didn’t like what he felt he had no choice but to do. But if he could keep his uncle from killing Snoke, or capturing him, it would all be worthwhile.

He never dreamed he would be fighting his uncle, of course. He never dreamed that he would actually be doing this.

But if necessary...

He ignited his lightsaber and let it connect with his uncle’s. The look of betrayal and shock on his uncle’s face...Ben swore that it would be burned into his memory. But he had to save Snoke, he had to stop his uncle, he had to do something. He couldn't simply do nothing.

He just hoped his uncle would forgive him.

***

The last thing that Luke expected was his nephew’s lightsaber connecting with his.

“Ben,” he said, “Put the lightsaber away. Please.”

“This isn’t me,” Ben said. “I don’t want to fight you, Uncle, but please, put the lightsaber away.”

“I’m not going to hurt him, Ben -- ’’

“You’ll do what you have to, then?” Ben said. “What happened to the idea that all life was sacred, even that of a Ren leader’s? Any Dark Sider’s, actually?” Beat. “Please. Help him.”

And Luke knew that Ben, in that moment, could see into him too well. Ben always had that gift, and in that moment, it seemed like more of a curse than a blessing. Ben was in his way. He was actively hindering Luke from doing what needed to be done.

“It’s not like that at all, Ben.”

“But you’ll take him out if you have to,” Ben said. “Is that right?”

Silence.

“You’ll torture him if you don’t.”

“Ben, I won’t -- ’’

“You will,” Ben said, “Snoke told me.”

“I just need to take him into custody.”

“I can’t let you.”

“You have to let me,” Luke said. Why couldn’t Ben see things his way? He couldn’t possibly be going over to Snoke’s side, was he?

Even that thought was too terrifying to even consider.

Ben shook his head. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”

It was only a lucky break that kept Ben from severing his hand, and Luke dueled against his nephew -- the last thing that he honestly expected in this moment.

Green. Blue. Green. Blue. That was how the blades went. That was how the duel went. Back and forth, back and forth, pressing against one another. Luke spoke in that moment. “I don’t want to kill you, Ben.”

“But you will if necessary?”

“No. I don’t want to kill you at all. Please, Ben, just step aside. Let me through.”

“No.”

“Just step aside, Ben -- ’’

“I won’t let you.”

Luke deactivated his lightsaber and held out his hand, ready to freeze Ben in place --

\-- only for Ben to get to him first. Across from him, Alora ran towards Snoke, only for Snoke to freeze her as well.

The last thing that Luke saw before he blacked out was Ben’s horrified, remorseful face.


	63. Chapter 62: Vader's Scion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Ben could only look in horror at what he had done. The frozen forms on the ground. He looked from the frozen forms to Snoke, who stood observing the scene as if it were of mild interest.

Then Ben spoke. “Snoke...”

“Is all well?”

“It’s not. I -- I betrayed my own uncle. I -- ’’

“Betrayal is a relative term, Ben.”

“I shouldn’t have done it.” Ben bit his lip. “But I couldn’t let them hurt you. I couldn’t let anyone get hurt.”

“Foolish but noble.”

Snoke’s hand rested on his shoulder. There was something about it that felt almost like cold marble, something about it that sent shivers up Ben’s spine.

“You did a hard thing,” Snoke said, “But you did the right one. The best thing you could do in a situation such as this.”

“I...don’t know,” Ben finally managed to say. “I didn’t want to hurt them...”

“Of course not.” Snoke’s hand brushed across his cheek. “But circumstances demanded it, didn’t they?”

Ben nodded. “There should have been another way,” he said.

“Sometimes there are no other ways, Ben.”

“There has to be. I didn’t want this. There could have been a better way. I -- I betrayed them...” Ben looked up at him. “And you...you killed Thomas, didn't you?”

“Lisaris’ guards did.”

“But you good as killed him. You...you...” Ben wished he could find the words. If it was a stranger, he could feel free to hate and to hurt. In Snoke’s presence, he could only hurt, only grieve over the confusion. “How could you do this? I trusted you.”

“I know.” Snoke’s voice was quiet all the while.

“You were a hero to me. And all this time...”

“If it is any comfort to you, Ben, you are still invaluable to me.”

“How?” What was it like, being “invaluable” to a Dark Sider? It was likely a rough road, filled with bumps and pain and uncertainty. A fine line between whether or not you were useful to them --

But it couldn’t have entirely been a lie, could it?

“When I first sought you out, I thought you were the best chance of stabilizing Milara, stabilizing the galaxy. I hardly expected to get attached to you.”

“But Dark Siders can’t get attached to...anyone.”

“You would be surprised. Besides, I would say that despite my alignment, I’m more of a mixture. A mixture between Dark and Light -- seeking to bring balance where the other Jedi never could. And I think you are the best candidate.”

“So I -- ’’

“The Darkness is part of you, Ben. There is no denying it. You were always meant to be part of it.”

“So I never belonged in the Order, did I?”

“ ‘Belonging’ is just another word for labels, my dear Ben. You were never able to be clearly defined. You...you were my finest work.”

“You...”

“Yes, Ben. Your parents may have copulated, but you were my creation as much as any other’s. My _aras_.”

“ _Aras_?”

“It means 'son' -- for you are akin to a son to me. Not of my body, but of my spirit.”

“You...”

“My child.” Soft now, gentle. “My dear child. You were always meant for glory, for greatness. It’s a pity others didn’t see it the same.”

“They -- ’’

“Your own mother was afraid of you.”

“I know.” Ben closed his eyes; there was nothing about that knowledge that didn't still hurt. Poe’s mother, before she’d died, had loved Poe unconditionally. Ben’s mother, meanwhile, seemed to see him as disgusting. Not good enough. Unclean.

“Well, don’t blame yourself. Your mother always was a self-righteous, cruel woman. She thought that the deaths of innocents on the Death Star were deserved, she thought her needs trumped the needs of others. Of course there’d be no love in a woman such as she.” Snoke looked pensive. “Fascinating term, ‘mother’. In Basic it might as well mean ‘saint’ or ‘martyr’ for those who idolize it so.”

“What was wrong with me?” Ben finally said. “What was so...disgusting about me that my own mother didn’t want me?”

“Nothing at all, Ben. It was she who was broken, damaged.”

“Snoke -- ’’

“Think about it, Ben -- if you came across a child with such power, such potential, such amazement, would you ever treat them as less than beautiful?”

Ben shook his head.

“Exactly. And you are...you are very remarkable, Ben. Very beautiful. You are beyond your mother’s judgments of you.”

Ben swallowed. “You...you are sincere.”

“It is the truth. I have never seen a student with such potential, such promise, before you. Even Lisaris -- even he pales in comparison to you. You can join me, Ben. You can complete your training. You can make the galaxy better. You can end this war. Will it not be wonderful?

He held out his hand. Ben looked over it, that delicate hand. Delicate, and yet so strong. In that hand lay all Ben’s hopes -- all for his future. He had never felt like he belonged in the Jedi Order. Perhaps this was who he truly was. Perhaps this was who he was meant to be -- balancing the Force, making sure the galaxy was safe. Making sure Poe was happy. Balancing the Force, so there would be no more wars, no more hardships. Maybe those like him could actually belong for a change, instead of being lost. Maybe. Maybe...

Ben took Snoke’s hand and grasped it.


	64. Chapter 63: Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the attack on the Academy begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

  
The moment that Ben took his hand, Snoke knew that this man -- this man who could provoke so many conflicting feelings inside him -- trusted him, completely and utterly. He could trust Ben, in turn, to carry out his mission, to bring balance to the galaxy where the Jedi had been far from able to.

It seemed, Snoke thought, that his dreams of making a better galaxy were finally coming to fruition, and it was glorious.

“So what do we do now?” Ben said.

That would come in time. “Go to the antechamber of the ship and await my presence. You’ll find others waiting for you -- others intending fully to follow me.”

“I’ll head there right now,” Ben said.

Even as Ben walked away, Snoke could not help but feel a sort of satisfaction. For the first time in a long while, it seemed that things were falling into place.

Over the Force, he could feel Senator Organa’s horror, and her grief. _No. It can’t be. You won’t have my son._

_And yet here I am. He will help me in this endeavor, Senator. To bring peace to the galaxy where you could not._

_He would never belong to you._ Senator Organa-Solo’s voice, shredded, in shock. _He would never help you. Never._

_Oh, he will. He was as much my child as yours and Han Solo’s, Senator. He was as much my child from the start. Moreso even. I’m merely claiming what is mine by right._

_He’s not yours. He was never yours._

_He was, Senator. Even his face -- he never was truly yours nor Han Solo’s, was he? He was the Dark’s. How ironic that such a thing of beauty could have come from such disgusting, unworthy people._ Even thinking about it was enough to make Snoke despise Leia all the more. Spoiled, spiteful, selfish, arrogant princess, with a vicious streak that would make Yoda impressed. Self-centered, negligent smuggler. They may have copulated, but the product of their union was Snoke’s alone. _I have come across disgusting, unworthy beings in my lifetime, but you are in a category all your own, the sorts of vermin who believe that you’re righteous. You, who would start a war to satisfy your childish sense of being a hero. You, who abandoned your own son. You, who have killed so many and still believe yourselves to be unassailable, who believe your victims deserved every last piece of harm. You, who believe that the galaxy revolves around you to cater to your pseudomorality and revenge fantasies and can’t stand when it isn’t the case. You, who don’t care about who gets killed as long as you get to live out your glory days. You, spiteful, traitorous, thankless, murderous, merciless, self-righteous. Murderer, traitor, thief. You were never good enough for your son -- you were never good enough for any being in this galaxy. Hero, mother, senator, royalty -- you are none of these things. You are not good enough. You are less than good enough. You are nothing._

He could already feel Senator Organa’s anger over the link. _You could never understand._

_I understand too well. And I know your son will too. He will come to accept me, to serve me, to love me in all things. He will be a son to me, as I am a father to him. I will be the parent to him that you were too pitifully inadequate to be._

_You would never be a parent to him._

_I would. You were never good enough. And now, Senator, you’re going to reap what you’ve sown._

***  
It took a while for Ben to find the antechamber, but once he got there, he knew it was the place.

There was a whole crowd gathered, a whole audience, completely still, looking up at the empty podium. Ben took his seat in the audience, looking out there for Snoke, wherever he was.

“Tonight’s the night.” one of the people next to him, a Knight of Ren no doubt, said. “Tonight is no doubt the night we march. I was wondering when it would become a reality.”

“It took that long?”

“Aye. The Leader, however...he was quite obsessed with you. He must have seen something in you, something unique.” The Knight of Ren paused. “You are an odd one. I can feel it.”

“So I’ve been told,” Ben said.

The crowd fell silent even as Snoke arrived.

Snoke all but towered over the crowd, majestic in that moment, imposing, the sort that the moment he stepped forward, the ranks of Ren and the other soldiers dropped what they were doing to look up at him.

“Beings of the First Order.” Snoke’s voice was quiet, and yet it seemed that the mythical Snoke of the Forest, he who had led his people to victory long ago, spoke through him. “My brothers, my sisters, my kin -- today is a momentous day in our history.”

 _My brothers, my sisters, my kin._ Snoke of the Forests had used those words in his speech long ago, when he had encouraged others to march. Ben had read it long ago when his Snoke had decided to educate him about Milaran history.

“The Republic has failed the galaxy time and time again,” said Snoke. “Long ago, when the Republic was established, they promised to protect those who needed it most. Innocents. The downtrodden. Soldiers swore an oath to defend the Republic, and they defended corruption and weakness instead. They failed countless people -- instances such as this date back only to a long, terrible legacy of failure that they’ve failed to learn any lesson from. The Empire brought order and peace for a short time, before Vader’s fall. Before the Emperor’s. All at the hands, or should I say words, of Luke Skywalker.”

The crowd roared in fury. It was as if they roared with one voice, Ben thought. One voice, standing up to the Republic to say no more.

“And in their place will be a better galaxy,” Snoke said. “From despair will come renewal, and from desolation will come prosperity. The galaxy will be safe, as it should have been from the start, and we shall have the balance we were denied. Let the First Order march then, into battle, into victory -- let us honor what the Empire began so long ago. In the name of Lord Vader, the Emperor, and others who died that terrible day at Endor, let it be known that we will finish their noble work. For they are not dead. Their spirits, their passions, their hearts -- they live in us, and we shall make sure they echo in eternity.”

The crowd roared in agreement. Ben, meanwhile, could only listen, entranced despite himself. The way Snoke spoke -- it was the sort of voice that would compel anyone into battle.

Snoke continued. “It will be a difficult fight without a doubt. No victory has ever been acquired without great struggle, without great strife. But we will do what we must. The Jedi Order is a dangerous foe. These beings are killers at their very core, and will not hesitate to kill us first. They will not hesitate to lay waste to your homes and families in the name of their cause. An excursion such as this is self-defense, not murder.”

Ben listened. He could not argue. If Uncle Luke had gone after Snoke, who knew who else would go after Snoke? And they would kill him. Or they would make him wish he was dead.

Either way, Ben doubted he could allow it.

“Let us defend our homes, our livelihoods, our very lives this day. Let us honor what the Empire worked so hard to achieve. In the name of the living and the dead, let us finish what Lord Vader started.”

The crowd saluted.

Ben saluted with them. All the while, there was something in him that felt almost as if he were on a path to something that he could never turn back from. And yet he was doing the right thing, wasn’t he?

There was everything wrong with the Republic. But there was nothing wrong with them.

As the crowd dispersed, Ben walked towards Snoke. “You gave a wonderful speech,” he said.

“Never underestimate the power of words, Ben. Words can stir the very soul. There’s a reason why language is so prized in Milaran culture.”

“They’d take a blaster bolt for you in a heartbeat,” Ben said, and he knew that in that moment, if necessary, he would too. He loved this man. Not like Poe, but a sort of undying devotion that a soldier felt for his General, a student for his teacher. A victim for the being who saved him.

“If necessary,” said Snoke.

“Is there anything I need to do?”

“You, Ben, have your own duties to fulfill. Down on the planet of Yavin IV is where you begin. The elements align for this moment.”

“What do I need to do?” Ben said.

“You must go to the Jedi Enclave and take care of the Jedi there. I know it repulses you, Ben, but to lose the Order is better than what they will do when they catch up with us. They will not hesitate to kill either of us, or make us wish they did. They are not beings who can be reasoned with, Ben -- they are killers to the core, all of them.”

“Not all of them.”

“But many of them. They’re monsters, Ben,” and it was there that Snoke’s voice became as heated, as passionate, as it was in his speeches. “Monsters who prey on younglings. They will not hesitate to do harm to us. It is better that we strike at them first than they strike at us.”

Ben bit his lip. “Isn’t there an alternative to killing them?”

“I doubt alternatives are available, Ben.” Snoke took a deep breath. “Captain Phasma, you will be working alongside Ben Solo.”

A woman in chrome stormtrooper armor stepped forward and Ben’s breath hitched.

 _I saw you in a vision. A nightmare._ It seemed as if in that moment that his worst nightmare that he had seen on Milara was coming true.

“A pleasure to be working with you, sir,” Phasma said.

“And with you.” All the while, Ben felt as if he had stepped into a nightmare. Perhaps it was a nightmare and he’d wake up and there would be no First Order, nothing like that at all --

Snoke must have sensed his discomfort because he said, “Captain, if I may...I would like to speak with Ben Solo.”

“As you wish, Supreme Leader.”

Snoke guided him away from Phasma. Then he spoke again. “Do you have doubts, Ben?”

“I’ve never done this before. It’s so big.”

“It’s hardly the first time you’ve put your lightsaber to work.”

“But that was...different. My friends and family -- ’’

Snoke’s voice was gentle. “They will show you no mercy, Ben. They will hate you, if only for the decision that you’ve made. They won’t care that you’re doing the right thing. The good thing. The only thing that dutiful citizens of the galaxy, those who are not cowards, would do. They won’t even care that you were their blood. They will not hesitate to kill you when they have the chance. Show no mercy, Ben. Mercy is a trait that your family has never shared.”

“And even my parents -- ’’

“When they come for you,” said Snoke, “They won’t show you mercy. They won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Even that knowledge was enough to make Ben’s chest clench. “They -- ’’

“They won’t hesitate to kill anyone they see as the enemy.”

Ben took a deep breath. “Even me?”

“Even you, Ben. Whatever they come for you, you must be prepared. You must be ready.”

Ben nodded. “I will do whatever I can to defend myself.”

“Exactly,” said Snoke. “There is one more thing, Ben -- there is something I would like to give you.”

He held out a helmet -- a small, rounded helmet that looked so very strange, almost naked. Ben couldn’t help but wonder how it was supposed to fit him. And then there was something about the mask that looked familiar...

“It looks like Revan’s mask,” Ben said. Even looking over the mask, he could not help but be reminded of what he had read in holobooks about the Mandalorian Wars.

“I thought it would be fitting,” said Snoke. “After all, Revan...he might as well be a Milaran warrior on par with the first Snoke. Like the first Snoke, he sought to bring balance and peace to a galaxy that was torn by hardship and strife. We’ll bring that peace to this galaxy, I know this, my Knight.”

As he spoke, images flickered across Ben’s mind. Famine, eradicated. Drought, eradicated. Milara, habitable again. Abuse, oppression, and so much more, eradicated. He saw Snoke sitting on the throne as Supreme Leader of Milara, the First Order, and making things right. And himself, standing next to Snoke, carrying out his commands and keeping the peace by any means necessary.

There was such an innocence to the images, such a sort of fairytale-like quality, that Ben was taken aback. “You believe it so much, don’t you?”

“Every inch of it, my Knight. Every part. And I believe that you can help me. If we work together, we can give Milara a future. We can give the galaxy a future.”

“Do you love Milara?”

“For my part, I do. The memories I have of her are not pleasant ones. But I know I would do anything to defend her beauty, her history, her wisdom. And I will not be alone.”

“I can only hope that I can save Milara...Snoke.” He couldn't call him Yana anymore, and yet the name Snoke still sounded so odd on his tongue. Snoke. Such a peculiar name for such a man. “Should I call you Snoke?”

“It is not my birth name, so you may. Supreme Leader, Leader Snoke, or simply Snoke...those are my names.”

“So Snoke it is, then.”

“Yes. In this case, names are important.” Beat. “And think nothing of Aldric, Ben. Aldric was unworthy.”

“I see.” It seemed unfair, however, condemning your former self simply for being a child. Illogical too.

“Now, the mask...I gave this to you, so you are always protected from your enemies. And there will be many as we go along. Masks have special properties, my dear Ben. I can only hope that you have the protection of prior Milaran warriors before you.”

“Thank you.” And I hope I do too. I will need them.

“Put it on. I want to see you in it, my Knight.” And Snoke’s voice became rumbling, almost a command.

Ben obeyed him.

Slipping the mask on was almost akin to putting on a blindfold, if the blindfold had some eyeholes, limited eyeholes at that, to see out of. The moment Ben put it on, it was as if his vision drastically narrowed, and everything else became like seeing out of the wrong end of binoculars. Snoke seemed blurry at first before solidifying again, and yet everything still seemed so narrow, so closed in. Ben idly wondered if that was how Revan felt when he had first worn his mask. Or, for that matter, Vader. Little durasteel cages where the eyes could peek out at the galaxy, but never truly see.

Snoke spoke. “Can you see me?”

“Barely,” Ben said. “I feel like I’m wearing this wrong.” And even his voice sounded funny. Muffled, strange.

“No, you’re wearing it right, Ben. It will take some time getting used to. Of course, the eyes are no more than sentient constructs and can be easily deceived. The Force is your guide. Your eyes, your ears. Trust in it.”

“I do.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.” To stop the war, to stabilize the galaxy, Ben would do anything.

“Go, my Knight. And may _ren_ be with you in your endeavors.”

“And in yours, Leader.”

“It will be,” said Snoke. “It will be.”

The planet below was already raining furiously. Even stepping out, long after Phasma had descended to the planet, Ben doubted that he had ever seen a rain like this on Yavin for quite some time. His eyes were protected from the worst of the storm, the rain that wouldn’t stop pounding on his helmet, spattering his cloak, and yet it seemed as if ahead of him was a blur in the rain.

“How are we supposed to see in this?” one of the Knights said. He was an older Knight, more wheezy-voiced, but Ben knew that age in and of itself was no hindrance when you had the Force.

That was a good question, actually. It was then that Snoke’s voice echoed in his mind.

Stretch out with your feelings.

Right. Your eyes could deceive you. That made sense - eyes were only sentient flesh constructs. They could be fallible as anything.

Even as Ben stretched out, he could feel the energy emanating from different places on the planet -- the Light was almost blinding even as he reached out. So much blue, and so much white...in between the steadily falling rain and the Force energy he sensed, he could identify with the Knight on that part -- sight was nigh impossible.

Then again, eyes alone were no way to experience the galaxy. The Miraluka had “seen” through the Force for years. So the fact that he was wet, cold, near-blind wasn't going to slow down his progress in the slightest.

“What are you doing?” the Knight said.

“Trust me,” Ben said.

They headed towards the Academy just then, the rain all but bearing down on them, and Ben wondered what they were going to do next. Knock on the door? Kill everyone there? He could only hope that they wouldn’t have to do something like that. He wasn’t quite ready to kill.

Then again, maybe nobody was dying around here. Maybe...maybe no one was going to die. Maybe they didn’t have to die, not really.

They reached the Academy. In contrast to other times Ben had been there, it was quiet, completely quiet. Had the Jedi gone in to protect themselves from the storm?

It was drawing closer that Ben saw it.

There were bodies lying everywhere. Some were stormtroopers, some were Jedi of varying ages. And out in the rain, it was a battlefield.

The stormtroopers had already made short work of some of the Jedi, and now the Jedi were already flooding out, cutting down troopers that continued to advance towards them. Blaster bolts flew through the air, and when that failed, when they were deflected back at the troopers, grenades flew through the air.

Ben stepped forward in that moment and stood in front of the other Knights. And it was there that the other Jedi froze.

They could recognize him. Even through the helmet, they recognized him. By the stars, they recognized him.

“I come here on orders from Supreme Leader Snoke,” Ben said. “Surrender your Academy to the Knights of Ren and more needless bloodshed may yet be avoided.”

 _Mercy, Ben?_ The Supreme Leader’s voice echoed over their link. And Ben was not afraid. Indeed, he was far from afraid. This man was practically a second father figure to him now. He trusted him. Loved him.

 _Who knows? They may yet be useful._ That was bargaining, of course. Ben was already hoping he wouldn’t actually have to kill anyone else.

Master Mei spoke up. “Ben? What are you doing here?”

“I have sworn my allegiance to the Supreme Leader. He has shown himself to be the best one to heal this broken galaxy and make it strong again. I have no desire to kill any one of you, but if necessary, I will do what I must.”

“As will we,” said Master Mei. She turned towards the younglings. “Go!”

They ran, and Ben was left to face the Jedi in the rain.

“I had hoped to avoid all this,” he said. He turned towards Phasma. “Open fire.”

And from there, the battleground became a symphony of lightsabers and blasters.

***  
Back on the _Liberator_ , the Supreme Leader waited for the incoming transmission. He could sense, at least, that his new would-be apprentice was safe, and that was what mattered. As for Hux...

Hux appeared then on the viewscreen, ramrod straight, still quite young, having a certain dignity to him in an almost sculpted way. “Supreme Leader.”

“General.” Snoke sat back then, casually, overlooking Hux. “How goes our strategy?”

“Quite well, Supreme Leader,” Hux said. “The loathsome Jedi Order are yet to be subdued, but I would say that my men have been doing a solid job.”

“I felt as much,” Snoke said. “You’re doing quite well, General. I’m impressed.”

Hux looked skeptical for a moment before composing himself. Hux was a man of science, thinking two-dimensionally as opposed to seeing all perspectives. Indeed, on the outside, Hux would seem more slimy than anything else; there were times where Snoke wondered if he left an oil slick when he talked. Humans would say “as slippery as a Hutt’s tail”, and Snoke would be inclined to agree with them.

But even the slimy could be dangerous.

One had to be careful, of course, with one such as Hux. He was a loyal General, and an efficient one as well, but there was always ambition that wove through him, a sort of belief that he should be the one to rule the galaxy as it was his right to do so. Snoke was not yet a ruler, but he knew that if there was anyone who could put the galaxy in place, heal its broken parts and shattered edges, it was Snoke, not Hux.

So one always had to maintain control with Hux. Subtle, but there nonetheless. Among Dark Siders, ambition and murder were virtues. But that was among Force users, not soldiers. And even among Force users, one had to continue to secure their allegiance.

“Go, General,” Snoke said. “Continue with your conquest.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

The hologram faded and Supreme Leader Snoke was left alone with his thoughts. He had not expected to end up coming back to kill his own kin, but sometimes ren made you have to make choices you never thought you would have to make. You had to kill those who you never thought you would have to kill, you had to fight those you never thought you would have to fight. Such was the way of ren. She could be a cruel mistress.

But ren was necessary nonetheless. The Jedi were a threat to balance in the galaxy. They had to be destroyed. They were cruel and corrupt and needed to be rooted out. They needed to be found, and destroyed before they could cause any more harm to the galaxy.

The Jedi would fall this day. And in their place would be a stronger institution, not chained by corruption and archaic views, stagnated, hypocritical, uncaring, isolated, but an institution that would give the galaxy what it needed. Stability. Order. Where foolishness such as an argument over taxation on trade routes would be limited to no more than a border skirmish, quickly over and done with, and the galaxy stabilized.

Snoke smiled to himself. It was a new dawn for the First Order, and he fully intended to take advantage of it.

***  
When the Academy fell, Leia Organa-Solo felt it, and she couldn’t believe that she was even feeling it. And yet here it was. Her son, her own son, massacring the Academy, willingly, with others at his side helping.

 _No_. Leia couldn’t accept it. She simply couldn’t. Even after all this time... _No_...

_What is the matter, Senator? It’s a fitting role for him, is it not? You always thought he had too much Vader in him. It appears you’ve got your wish._

“You’re a monster.”

_I am what ren made me, Senator. And ren, cruel a mistress as she is, can occasionally be just as well. The Jedi could not be allowed to continue. Nor could the Republic. Now, listen, Senator...listen to the death of corruption in this galaxy, or at least one part of it._

Leia didn’t have much of a choice but to listen, actually. It was too much like being on that bridge of the Death Star, watching the Death Star turned up to its maximum setting destroy Alderaan in one shot. Her father, holding her back as her true father and mother, her friends and family, burned.

And her son...her son was butchering countless people. What he didn’t butcher, others did for him.

“You disgusting, monstrous beast...”

_Call me what you will, Senator. It is the will of ren this happen. I only thought it would be interesting you would watch._

Leia Organa-Solo did not scream. Even when Alderaan was destroyed, she had not so much as whimpered.

But by the stars, even as her son’s rampage went through the Force, she wanted to. 


	65. Chapter 64: Crumbling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben duels Naris, says goodbye to Poe, and many other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Trigger warning for graphic violence and mentions of (not carried out) child murder.

Outside the Jedi Temple on Yavin IV was practically a vision of hell.

There were bodies lying everywhere, wounded by lightsabers and other weapons of that nature. There were fleeing Jedi, trying to get away and get others to safety, there were many others fighting back, killing stormtroopers and wounding Knights of Ren. And there was Ben, fighting off other Jedi.

Ben, shaking, injected a life support pack into his wound, which was enough to at least stop himself from shaking, at minimum. It was standing in the pile of corpses that were his enemies that he saw Master Naris approaching from across the battlefield.

Master Naris’ look of horror at the carnage then turned to a look of utter hatred even as he took in Ben. “ _You_.”

And the look on his face -- he looked particularly ugly in that moment, Ben thought. Almost as if he were a rancor waiting to charge at Ben, waiting to gut him.

Before him was the teacher who had made Ben’s life horrible ever since he had first arrived in the Enclave, and here was a chance to make him pay for what he did.

 _Make him suffer_ , Snoke coaxed. _Use your aggressive feelings. Aggression is the fire in which justice is constructed. Enact your justice._

Ben hesitated.

_Remember what he did to you. To Michael. All the humiliations you suffered at his hands. What would you have wanted to do to him that you couldn’t do all these years prior?_

And it was there that it all clicked into place.

“Hatred, Master Naris? Not terribly Jedi-like.” Ben twirled his saber. “Then again, you were never a Jedi. Always too hateful, too angry. You seemed to hate every sentient being out there. If it was there, you hated it. All because your padawan was killed. Because of that, you decided to lash out at innocents just because you wanted them to feel your pain.”

“You’re just like your grandfather,” Naris said. “In every way. Stars, I should have known the moment you were dropped off on our doorstep that you were just a copy of him, you even looked like him the older you got. And now you’re killing like him. You never should have been born. Your parents...they should have dropped you out the medcenter window the day you were born.”

“Like I was saying,” Ben said. “Hatred. You claim to be a Jedi, yet you feed off anger and hate. You’re hardly sentient, Master Naris. Maybe a ball of hate if it took physical form, but nothing sentient.” He pointed his saber at Naris. “Do you even bleed, Master? Why don’t we test it?”

_Oh, Ben. There’s no blood in him. Maybe poison where blood should be, but no blood._

Master Naris ignited his lightsaber. “To the death,” he said. “Yours. We should have killed you the moment you first showed up on our doorstep. Now we’re just finishing it up, and by the will of the Force, you’ll be rotting in a shallow grave like you deserve.”

“Don’t get so confident,” Ben said.

Their lightsabers clashed, red against blue. All the while, Ben tried to remember everything he learned about Naris’ form, Djem So. He met Naris’ blows, bit by bit, and used the Force to slam Naris backwards into the mud. Naris got up, clearly humiliated and angry, continuing to slash at Ben.

“Seems I was wrong,” Naris said. “You have improved.”

“If you weren’t so restrained, so afraid of the Dark Side, you would too.” Ben looked at him, calmly. “They say only the weak embrace the Dark Side. They’re wrong. It’s only the weak, the hypocritical, who embrace the Light. It takes great strength to leave it.”

“By the will of the Force, Yana will be rotting in that shallow grave with you.”

“His name,” said Ben, “Is Snoke. And he is better than you in every way. You can’t kill him. You can’t defeat him.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you idolized this monster.”

“He’s a better man than you could ever be!”

Naris backed away, looking horrified. “By the stars,” he said. “You’re just like Lisaris. Just as deluded, just as ruthless, just as disgusting. You deserve to be in that shallow grave, you truly do. You should have been from the start.”

“And you call Snoke a monster.” Ben said.

Naris drew his lightsaber in that moment. “I should have ended you the moment you walked into our Enclave,” he said. “At least I can do now what I didn't have the strength to do then.”

You know what to do, Ben. Are you going to let him do this? Defend yourself.

And Ben did. He drew on every bit of rage that he had to remember the green lightning, the lightning that Snoke had taught him back in his Yana persona, and it was there that Naris was knocked back.

Naris gaped at him. “You -- you can’t do this! This...this is an abomination...”

“Because you don’t understand it, do you?” Ben said. “Because you don’t want to understand. Can’t stand the fact that the failure Jedi got stronger, can you?”

Naris got to his feet. “You’re not stronger,” he said. “You’ll never be. You’re nothing, Solo. You’ll always be nothing.”

And from there, even as their blades locked, it became too easy. Even as they dueled, it seemed that Ben was in more than a bit of a bind. He had to overcome Naris, had to fight him...

And so he pressed harder into the lock, pressing until he could smell sizzling flesh.

Naris screamed. It was the sort of howl that, for a moment, chilled Ben. He had done his share of inflicting pain, but not in combat, not like this. The smell of burnt flesh...Ben was grateful for his mask in that moment just to keep the stench out. The almost sickeningly sweet stench. Even as he pressed harder into the lightsaber lock, it was as if he was carving further into Naris’ flesh. Into the shoulder. He wanted to stop, and yet he didn’t want to. It was as if years of Naris’ cruelties played across his mind, and he couldn’t stop them. And all the while, Snoke’s voice goaded him.

_Our enemies deserve to suffer._

_Remember what he did to you. Remember what he said to you. Make him suffer._

Naris looked just about on the brink of passing out, Ben couldn’t help but think. For a moment, it seemed almost repulsive, disgusting -- and Ben didn’t know how he could keep doing this.

Ben took his lightsaber and sliced through Naris’ neck. Even as Naris’ head rolled across the rain-soaked ground, he could already feel the weight of what he was doing crashing down on him. And to think that he had never intentionally inflicted pain on someone in combat before...

It was enough to make him almost want to vomit. He swallowed back the urge to just in time.

“Ben?” Annie’s voice. “Did you...you couldn’t have...”

He looked up to see Mike and Annie, soaked with rain, lightsabers at their sides but unignited.

“Yes.” _He’s gone now. He can’t hurt you anymore._

_So why do I feel so nauseous?_

It was as if for the first time since he set out on this mission, Ben could get a good look at himself -- and it was far from a lovely picture.

The question was what he was going to do next. Could he kill Mike and Annie?

He couldn’t do it. Somehow, he couldn’t do it. After all, they were still his very dear friends, even after all this time. He couldn’t kill his friends.

He reached out then, and froze Annie, then Mike. Annie looked up at him, still clearly stunned by what he had done, and Mike -- Ben could already hear him. How could Ben do this to us how could he why is Ben hurting us...

“Sir,” said Phasma. “The survivors.” _Shall I kill them?_ was the unspoken question.

It would have been orders, no doubt, to end both their lives. But even after all he had done, Ben could not do this.

“Take the survivors to the ship,” Ben said. “They’ll yet be useful.” That was at least a part of his reasoning. The other part was that he doubted he could still kill Mike and Annie. Even looking over them both, Ben doubted he could actually ignite his lightsaber and end both their lives. In the end, bargaining was what he chose to do. Bargaining was his best bet.

Snoke called it mercy.

Ben called it pragmatism.

Even as the Knights of Ren carted off Mike and Annie towards the ship, Ben set about burying the bodies. There wasn’t enough time, and he doubted he could bury them all. In the end, he decided on a mass grave, with the symbol of the Knights of Ren carved into the headstone that Ben had set out.

This was what they’d done. This was where they’d been. And no one else can stop them.

And yet...

Even looking over the mass grave, Ben couldn’t help but feel sick. He had done the right thing, hadn’t he? He had done what he could, considering the circumstances.

So why did he feel suddenly very sick?

***  
Even as Leia listened to the sounds of her son’s rampage emanating through the Force, she did not cry. But by the Force, she wanted to. Just feeling her son killing, ruthlessly cutting down those who used to be his comrades, was enough to make Leia want to weep.

And Snoke, meanwhile, was relentless. Merciless.

_This is what you have wrought, Senator. This is what you have done. This is your fault._

“Mine?” Leia said. “How is this my fault?”

 _Did you ever care for your son? Did you ever stop to think that my vision would be for the good of the galaxy if you hadn’t built up your Resistance? You seek chaos, you hunger for battle, you can’t_ wait _to send the galaxy crashing down._

“How is any of what you’ve done going to be for the good of the galaxy?”

_Order, General. Peace. Stability. Justice. The only reason you formed the Resistance was to preserve the same corruption in the Senate that your mother tried to preserve. There is so much you don’t know._

“Really?” Leia said, acidly.

_Of course you know explosions, Senator. Alderaan shattering to pieces before your eyes in one blast. You know death. But have you ever known hunger, or thirst? Have you ever been woken by blasterfire outside your window, or had to hide from enemy soldiers? Of course not. You lived a life of royalty and privilege, Senator, and you know it. You joined the Rebellion because you were indoctrinated._

“I joined because it was the right thing to do.”

_Was it, Senator? Or did it just cause more corruption and misery? What has the Republic done for any of us, I wonder? Nothing. And yet you wish to preserve corruption and disorder because it’s somehow “righteous”. You are a testament to corruption, to disorder, and if I have to root you out, put right what was made wrong, so be it. And your son’s going to help me. And he’ll be perfectly all right without you -- even powerful, free to choose what he wants to be._

“He -- ’’

_Are you familiar with Milaran junglecats, Senator? They eat their young. All when they’re starved enough. All when they’re deprived enough. You...you might as well have eaten your own young. You were so willing to see him as like your father. From that vantage point, is the destruction not glorious? Here is everything you wished for, here is everything you wanted._

“You’re sick,” Leia said. “In every way.”

_I think you’ll find that you’re the sick one, Senator. I merely see your heart, and your mind. You, who wanted a different child, one that catered to your every whim. You, who wanted a child who didn’t need affection and care. You, a miserable, pathetic woman who feeds off anger and hate. You, the junglecat who eats her young and calls them the evil ones._

“I never -- ’’

_Of course you did. You hated him. You absolutely hated him, because he reminded you of your father. Never mind that your father was infinitely your better. You, Senator, are a mother in name only. You were a mother because you and Han Solo weren’t careful about using protection. That room on the Falcon still stinks of intercourse, doesn’t it? It stinks of the mistake you made, doesn’t it?_

“No!”

Leia took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, to calm herself. Then, “He wasn’t a mistake. He wasn’t...”

Was he?

***  
In the rain, Ben Solo removed his helmet and vomited into the bushes, grateful at least that no one could see him do it. He vomited until he felt as if his stomach was wrung, and then he wiped his eyes, his mouth, and put the helmet back on.

He had done this. He had done this. He had killed those people. He had inflicted pain, knowingly, on another being. He had done this, all of it, and he had never done this before.

Even Narudar...he didn’t think he had done something like this. He had never done something so atrocious, so...

But it had been the necessary thing to do under the circumstances, right? Hadn't it?

He returned to his troops, and the stoic facade was in place again, just for a moment. That was one of the benefits of masks. They didn’t betray what you were thinking. They could hide it. Parts of you that could never be shown. They didn't know that he was thinking of Poe in that moment, that he was wondering how to explain it all to Poe, if he could --

No. He couldn't explain things to Poe. But he could at least say goodbye to him, when he could.

“Sir,” Phasma said. “Any further orders?”

“Remain here,” Ben said. “Keep a lookout for any survivors.”

That was just a cover, and possibly a pathetic one. But he needed to see his husband. Even if it was possibly one last time.

 _No. Don’t think about that._ He could still have Poe, couldn’t he? He could serve Milara and still have Poe with him, couldn’t he? The very idea of having Poe with him, his and his alone, giving him the galaxy, the stars, the planets...it was too wonderful to imagine.

He would always do anything for his husband.

He approached the house in the rain, knocked on the door. The door opened, and Poe came out to greet him, all but bowling Ben over in his embrace.

Ben hugged him back, and he fought the urge to sob into Poe’s chest. He wanted to cry in that moment, but found it was nigh impossible. He inhaled Poe’s scent in that moment, taking comfort in his presence, his warmth. He was home. BB-8 came out, chirping inquisitively even as Ben buried his face in Poe’s shoulder.

How was he going to explain that he had killed them?

But he had done what he could under the circumstances, hadn’t he? He had done what he could. Always what he could.

“Ben,” Poe said. “Are you okay?”

“I am. It’s just good to see you.”

“Same here. I...there’s been an alert about someone in a mask slaughtering students. I actually thought that you’d been killed.”

Ben’s chest ached in that moment. It hurt, lying to Poe like this. He wanted to be honest with him, to admit what exactly he had done, to say that he was sick for what he had done --

Was he sick, though? Or was he doing the best he could? Ben couldn’t say he knew.

“I’m here,” he said, softly. “I’m all right.” He kissed Poe’s forehead, his cheeks, tender kisses that gave him an irrational feeling like this would be the last time he would kiss Poe Dameron like this.

“Thank the stars.”

Ben held Poe for a long time before drawing away. “I have to go.”

“Where, Ben?”

“Yana,” and the name felt wrong saying it; after all, Snoke was not Yana, but he would have to ease Poe into the revelation one step at a time. “Needs me. I have a mission to complete for Milara.”

“Does Yana have that authority?”

He does now. “It’s a favor to him.” And for someone who was usually such a bad liar, the lies were coming too easily for Ben Solo. Too easily, too freely. It was frightening how easy it was to lie to his own husband.

Poe looked at him. “Ben,” he said, softly. “What are you hiding? Really?”

Because I need to ease you into the truth, one step at a time. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“Ben, if you're in trouble...I can help you. Really.”

Ben looked down at him and smiled, letting every inch of his love flow out of that smile. “You always have. You always do. Poe...in the event I don’t return, I want you to know something.”

“Don’t talk about not returning.”

Ben ran a thumb over his lips. “You always called me your angel. But you have been an angel to me, Poe, you always have. You’ve always been kind, strong, funny, brave. You are everything I could never be and more.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“I love you, Poe. You are everything to me, always, and in the event I don’t come back...no matter where we both go, you will always be the love of my life.”

_No matter what falls before us, you will always be my one and only. The love of my life. Always and forever._

“And you’ll always be the love of my life.” Poe said. “Always.”

His voice broke, and he looked away.

Ben held him, and he felt the weight of Poe’s body against his, the warmth of it. The armor he wore was like a prison, but Poe’s body was warm, a reminder of what lay outside, a reminder of what he still had.

“I love you,” Ben said again. “Always.”

And hopefully this isn’t goodbye. This can’t be goodbye.

There were two options: say goodbye, or come home.

And when he came home, he could explain everything to his husband. Everything. Poe would be upset, but in time, Ben would explain to him why he did it. He’d tell Poe about Milara, and what Snoke endured, and how out of balance the galaxy was. And Poe would know why.

He could picture it in his mind. Poe standing by his side even as they stabilized the galaxy, healed it, made it strong. Perhaps starting a family. Raising their heirs to carry on their legacy long after they were both gone.

There could be so much they could do. There could be so much that they were yet to do. So much, if Poe could have him.

“I love you,” he said. “I promise I won’t be long.”

“Don’t be long.” Poe’s voice was soft even as he said it.

***  
Even as Ben headed off into the rain, Poe couldn’t shake the thought that he was hiding something. There had been something evasive about him, the way that he had spoken to Poe...if Poe didn’t know better --

_No. Ben would never do that. He would never kill innocents. He never could. How can you think that way, Dameron? Have you gotten paranoid?_

_No. Just worried for him. Just scared for him._

Poe sighed. “Be safe,” he murmured. “Let him be safe. Wherever he goes, whatever happens, let him be safe.”

He could only hope that that was the case. That Ben would be safe. Whatever was happening to him.

BB-8 dwooed softly, and Poe patted the small dome that was his head.

“I know, buddy,” Poe said. “I love him too.” Stars do I love him, more than he could ever know.

***

Ben returned to the battlefield in that moment, and he could feel the rain battering down on his armor. His feeling of sickness hadn’t let up; indeed, the sick feeling had only intensified. Lying to Poe like that -- he had never lied to Poe like that. Never kept a secret of such magnitude. And the idea of losing him...

The idea of losing him was unbearable. Being parted from him was something that he couldn’t bear to think about. Like losing a limb. Being parted from him was hard enough before, but this...

And was what he did right? Ben didn’t know. He couldn’t know. Was what he did just? Did they deserve --

“Sir?” said Phasma. “Is all well?”

Ben merely nodded. The helmet seemed clunky on his head, too heavy. Then, “I am...tired.”

“You have your doubts, sir?”

“I do not.”

Phasma’s voice seemed to soften momentarily. “Do not fear and do not falter, sir. Everything we do is in the service of the Supreme Leader’s vision. Never doubt what you have done.”

“Yes.” _But the other Jedi, the younglings..._

Had Vader felt like this when he had carried out his purge? Of course not. He was confidence, coldness, composure, never faltering in his mission and his purpose. He definitely wouldn’t have been standing in the rain wondering if he had done the right thing; he would have found ways to know --

Vader would have known. Vader always would have known.

Ben supposed that it was one of the better things about Jaina being with Aaron and Zara on Jakku. She didn’t have to be in danger.

His thoughts were cut short even as he felt a ship landing. And a presence. His uncle had arrived.

There was no time to dwell. Now...now he had to act.

Ben headed towards the hangar then. This...this was far from finished. 


	66. Chapter 65: Defeated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben confronts Luke and Alora, and Snoke arrives on the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

 

The hangar was empty at first when Ben headed towards it, but he knew that there was something, or someone, behind a door. He knew that there was his uncle, and his aunt, coming to find him.

 _To kill you,_ Snoke reminded him. _They will show you no mercy, and you must show them none._

 _I will not_ , Ben promised.

_We shall see. We shall see..._

It was then that Uncle Luke and Aunt Alora stumbled out of the rain, and Ben was struck by how their hair stuck to their damp skin, Alora looking almost ghostly in that light, her eyes wide and horrified, Luke looking all but exhausted. They paused, clearly taking in the scene -- the bodies that lay around the site, and more. Finally, Luke spoke. “Ben. Dear Force...did you kill them?”

“Not all of them,” Ben said. “The one who killed the younglings is dead. He can’t do any more unnecessary harm.”

“None of this was necessary, Ben.” His uncle’s eyes were wide, pleading, poignant. “Please, stop this. This isn’t you. This isn’t in your character.”

“I had to.”

“You didn't have to,” his uncle said. “You could have turned back.”

“There was no other way.”

“There could have been every way in the galaxy,” his uncle said. “There could have been every possible way. But it isn’t too late. You can come back with us. You can get the help you need.”

He could remember what the Supreme Leader said, and already possibilities were all but dancing in his head. Execution (just because the Jedi said they didn’t kill their prisoners didn’t mean that it was the truth). Being stripped of the Force like Ulic Qel-Droma before him. Being mentally violated and having his memories wiped, like Darth Revan before him. All sorts of horrifying possibilities, dancing in his head even as he looked at his uncle and aunt.

And what they could have done to Snoke...

Ben drew his lightsaber. Luke looked in that moment as if he had been shot, and thoughts streaming from him seemed to come in waves. _Ben...how can you do this? It’s not you. By the stars it’s not you..._

And Aunt Alora seemed just as shocked in that moment.

It couldn’t mean that the Supreme Leader was wrong about them not showing mercy, though. There was always the risk that they would take him back to be stripped of the Force. Imprisoned. Exiled. And he wasn’t ready to take that route. He wasn’t ready to become a hollow shell. He wasn’t ready, especially not for the sake of doing the right thing.

_Is it the right thing?_

It had to be. He was going to save Milara and many other places. There was everything wrong with the Jedi Order, but nothing wrong with them.

Right?

“Ben,” his uncle said. “Please...”

_Lash out at him, Ben. Lash out before he gets to you. Lash out before he gets to you first._

Ben did so. It was only through a lucky break that he didn’t sever Luke’s hand.

Green blade met blue blade, and it was through there that the duel began.

They dueled, and Ben knew that though he was getting better at the matter of dueling, there was something about the matter of his Uncle that was infinitely better. He was accomplished, he was skilled, he was practiced, and Ben knew that no matter how much practice he had, he could never truly measure up to his Uncle.

And yet his Uncle was holding back. It would have been easy just to kill him, and yet his Uncle was holding back.

“What are you doing?” Ben demanded.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ben,” his uncle said. “Please, just come home. We can help you.”

“I don’t want your ‘help’.”

“Just come home, Ben.”

“Why?” Ben said. “So you can trick me and then kill me?”

He didn’t expect Luke’s eyes to widen in astonishment in that moment, or Alora’s, “Ben...”

Ben continued. “Of course you’d kill me! That’s what the Jedi do to all their enemies. Or make them wish they were dead.”

“Snoke told you that, didn’t he?” Luke said.

“So what if he did?”

“He’s not telling you the whole truth. He’s manipulating you, Ben.”

“Not about this.”

“I don’t want to kill you, Ben. I want to help you.”

“You’re a...”

Ben stopped. Was his uncle a liar?

And strangely, Ben could swear that he felt something else from his uncle -- sincerity. The Supreme Leader said that his parents would kill him, that mercy was not a trait that any member of his family shared, and yet here his uncle was, offering him a chance.

All without deception. All without hesitation.

The question was, was he even worthy of it? He couldn’t be worthy of it. Not after all he had done. Not after what he had committed.

“Ben,” Luke said, softly.

“You don’t understand! I killed them. I killed them.” Ben’s voice cracked. He didn’t cry, but the tears were there in his voice. He was grateful at least that the others weren’t around to see this. Imagine that, their leader, their commander, on the verge of breaking down like a little boy. “I didn’t want to, I gave them a chance to surrender, but they didn’t take it, a-and I had to -- I had to -- ’’

“Your grandfather killed in similar circumstances and yet he was redeemed,” Luke said. “I can’t see why you can’t.”

And for a moment, Ben wanted to go with Uncle Luke. For a moment, he wanted to abandon all this and go home.

But could he? He’d made a promise, after all. And then there was the fact that even if he really could go home...could he? Even after all he had done...

“Uncle, I’m sorry,” Ben said. “I belong here.”

He could swear that his uncle’s eyes widened in something like heartbreak, and he said, “Ben...”

“I belong here,” Ben said. “I think I have, all along.”

 _This is who I really am_.

He drew his lightsaber again. Uncle Luke drew his in turn, and the duel resumed. This time, it seemed to be evenly matched, this time it seemed to be a case of neither one wanting to truly hurt the other. Neither one wanting to kill the other. Up until, at least, Uncle Luke froze him.

Ben tried to move, but he felt as if he were stuck in quicksand. It was hard to move in that moment, hard to so much as speak, for that matter.

“I’m sorry, Ben,” Uncle Luke said. “I never wanted this to happen.”

The last thing he felt before everything went black were his uncle’s lips on his forehead.

***  
Luke Skywalker looked over the prone body of his nephew. It wasn’t the first time that he had used Stasis on someone, but definitely the first time that he had actually used it on Ben, and he couldn’t help but be horrified at what he had done. Everything he had done, actually. He had never imagined that it would actually come to this.

“Come on,” he said. “Alora...help me get him back to the ship.”

Alora nodded, and they were about to get Ben back to the ship when Snoke’s voice rumbled from seemingly out of nowhere, “Leaving so soon, Skywalker?”

It was there that Snoke stepped out of the shadows, his pale skin seeming all but luminous in the night. A flash of lightning and Snoke was illuminated all the more. Luke flinched, but he did not drop Ben. Instead, he looked up into Snoke’s face, into the scarred face and bright blue eyes strangely untainted by the Dark Side, and willed himself not to be afraid.

“Snoke,” Luke said calmly. “I thought that you would be behind this.”

Alora then spoke. “You corrupted him.”

“I showed him the truth. Your...Order could not be allowed to continue.” Snoke said the word with a certain amount of disgust. “It was corrupt, it was cruel, it was repugnant. I watched you too, Luke Skywalker, and it is safe to say I have never hated anyone as much as I have hated you, or for that matter, Yoda.”

“You...hated me?” Luke already felt as if he had been punched in the gut. It wasn't the worst thing Snoke had done, and yet...

“Of course I hated you,” Snoke snarled. “I hated everything about you. Your self-righteous blathering about the Light and the Dark, your murders of those on the first Death Star that you tried to portray as righteous and justified, your mewling about topics that you could never in centuries understand. I hated you. It was all a matter of saying nothing. Even if we were on the same side, I would have to hide the fact that I knew that there was no decency in that body, in your idiotic rants about good and evil -- never mind that you have committed so much evil, your hands run red with it, and they’ll never be clean.”

Every word that Snoke said felt like a lightsaber burn. Then Luke spoke again. “Snoke,” he said. “Is that really what you got out of it?”

“Yes. You have no idea what it was like to be surrounded by such gossiping, self-righteous, hypocritical buffoons. You have no idea how infuriating it was to be surrounded by your ilk.”

“So it was a lie. All of it.”

“It was. Do you think I would actually feel friendship for a liar and a murderer like you?”

Luke, for a moment, was too stunned to speak. Alora seemed too stunned as well. Snoke continued. “And now you seek to harm my apprentice. More than you already have. You will not harm him, though. You will not harm him ever, ever again.”

Snoke drew his lightsaber and ignited it -- blood red double blades that shone in the rain. Luke and Alora drew theirs, and they dueled. To say that Snoke was skilled was an understatement; he moved with a certain grace and speed that belied his height. Luke had to admit that if they weren’t fighting for their lives and Ben’s, he could afford to be at least slightly impressed. Instead, he was very much worried -- how, if anything, was he going to survive this?

It was there that Snoke’s lightsaber, double blades, rushed at Luke. Luke dodged it, and yet the blade clove through both his hands before he could stop it. Even as his lightsaber rolled away, Luke knew that it was over, that he was defenseless.

“Hurts being defenseless, does it not?” Snoke said. “Sad to see a man’s talents fail him. You think that you're all-powerful, all-knowing, the greatest Jedi who ever lived. You are wrong. Next to us, you’re a child who found his father’s lightsaber for the first time.”

Luke could not deny it. Even lying there, he knew full well that next to Snoke, he was really and truly nothing. He had lost. He had lost the moment that he had put his trust in Snoke.

Alora charged at Snoke, only for Snoke to reach out and put her in a Force Whirlwind. Luke stumbled to his feet, but Snoke froze him.

And Luke could only watch, feeling all but paralyzed, as Snoke carried Ben once more, like one of the villains in horror holos carrying their victims, up the ramp of his ship.

Snoke’s words practically boomed inside his mind. He is not yours, Skywalker. This boy, this warrior...he is mine, and will forever be.

They echoed inside Luke’s head long after Snoke flew away. Luke felt his knees give way and Alora’s arms were around him, supporting him as best she could considering what had just happened.

_He is mine._

_He_

_is_

_mine_.

And of all the things that happened that horrible night, Luke knew that those words would go with him to the grave, a reminder of the promise he broke to Leia, and every other broken promise.


	67. Chapter 66: We Are Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben becomes Kylo Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

  
On Jakku, Rey awoke from her dream -- from her nightmare. She could still remember how she had had it, the strange masked man with the hood, but she was safe here -- for a relative value of safe. But she wasn’t in the nightmare with the strange man anymore, and that was something.

Rey looked around the inside of the AT-AT she was in, the strange broken down structure that she had come to call home over the course of all these years. She had been on Jakku ever since she was only five years old, and she mostly had fragments of her past. Plutt said that whoever her family members were, they weren't going to come and pick her up, but they were out there, she knew they were, and that man in the helmet with the lightsaber like a cross...

He seemed so familiar. Like she knew him, once upon a time...

Then again, she had a lot of inexplicable memories, a lot of things she didn’t understand. Maybe this was one of them.

_Just get back to bed, Rey. It’s just a bad dream, that’s all. Yeah, just a really kriffed up dream..._

Rey did, and when she did, she imagined the island. She didn’t know what it all meant, of course, but it was comforting. On Jakku, waiting for her family to come back (they were still out there, she just knew it), it was the best comfort she had. It would have seemed foolish, being thirteen and still dreaming about islands, and yet it worked.

By the stars, it worked.

***  
He could have sworn that he saw the girl. And she was so familiar, somehow. She had Alora Danes-Skywalker’s green eyes and brown hair, had a hairstyle that Jaina would have worn...

But what would Jaina be doing in an AT-AT, alone? It made no sense. His aunt and uncle couldn’t have been so cruel. Aaron and Zara couldn’t have been so cruel --

Ben rubbed his temples. Whatever it was, whatever was there on Jakku, it was just a hallucination.

Even as he was jarred out of his thoughts, one of the Milaran handmaidens to Snoke entered. Some of them seemed to vary in colors, going from gray to pink and many other shades. This one was pink. Then, “The Supreme Leader wishes to speak with you.”

Ben had to admit that he was nervous even as he entered. Considering how he had nearly betrayed the Supreme Leader -- something he realized, in his newly awakened state, was unacceptable -- he would have to own up to what he did.

The throne room was guarded by large spotted cats -- Milaran junglecats? They must have been, Ben thought. They growled at him even as he passed, suggesting only the Supreme Leader stood between them and Ben being a tasty dinner.

He continued into the throne room, which was already structured with such high angles, such great heights, that Ben couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by it all. At the far end of the room was Snoke himself, changed out of his Jedi disguise and into black robes with a high collar. He looked, Ben thought, almost like a king in his own right -- glorious, as if his full splendor managed to shine through in that moment.

Ben knelt, bowed his head. “Supreme Leader.”

There was silence before Snoke’s fury began to build.

Snoke’s fury was a slow thing, such a quiet thing, building in the Force like the prelude to a storm, and Ben was already afraid. He spoke, trying to placate, trying to keep the full weight of Snoke’s fury from crashing into him. “Supreme Leader...”

“You. Don’t think I never felt what happened to you down on Yavin IV. How you nearly betrayed me.”

“I -- ’’

Snoke’s voice built up to a roar. “ _How dare you try and leave me?_ ”

“Supreme Leader, I never -- ’’

“Your feelings betray you,” said the Supreme Leader. “Even down on Yavin IV, you wanted to leave. You wanted to betray me. You would have joined forces with Skywalker to try and kill me.”

“No -- no, I wouldn’t have -- ’’

The Supreme Leader reached out in that moment and constricted his hand. Ben’s hands went to his throat, trying to pry those invisible hands off it. He looked up at the Supreme Leader, quietly pleading with him. _Forgive me, Supreme Leader, forgive me --_

And in his mind, the Leader’s fury raged. You would have left me. _You would have left me, as Yoda did. You would have betrayed me._

“I wouldn't have -- ’’

The Supreme Leader released his grip, and Ben stumbled back in that moment.

“Then you should have killed them,” said the Leader calmly, and his calm was too at odds with what he had just done, the aftermath of a storm as compared to the storm itself. “You should have killed them both, instead of letting them sway you.”

“I...didn’t expect them to want to help me...”

“Did they?”

“I felt -- ’’

Snoke huffed. “Perhaps they were sincere. But they were still mired in their beliefs. They still believed that we were evil. Evil, as opposed to them, who have done more harm than we could ever truly do.”

“They...have.”

Snoke’s breathing was heavy, but he seemed mollified. “I suppose I should not have blamed you so. You are not the first one to be manipulated by Luke Skywalker. Hopefully you will be the last. But you are not to stray from my vision. You are not to sabotage it, you are not to betray it. It is my vision, mine, Ben Solo, do you understand?”

Ben could not help but flinch just looking up at Snoke, at blue eyes that momentarily seemed to flash yellow, almost like twin suns.

“Yes, Supreme Leader. Your vision.” Ben bit his lip. “I am your humble servant. I won’t betray you like Yoda did.”

Snoke’s expression softened. “So you understand,” he said. “Your training is rough, but in time, with knowledge, it will yet be perfected.” He looked thoughtful. “There will still be much to do. There will be blood, of course, but there will also be stability. Peace where there was war, stability where there was chaos. And in the quest for stability...plenty of blood had to be shed, of course. I will do that, but I need you by my side.”

And Ben understood full well in that moment. Blood and sacrifice -- it had been something Uncle Luke had never understood and never would understand. Blood was a necessity to be shed in order to keep the galaxy safe -- restoring order that the galaxy had lost to the Rebellion.

Finishing what Vader started. Finishing, fulfilling Snoke’s dream.

“Train me then,” Ben said. “To follow in the footsteps of my grandfather, to become as great as he ever was, to become as powerful as he ever was. Train me, Supreme Leader.”

Snoke nodded. “I shall. The path ahead will be a hard one, Ben. But once you are finished, you will become a powerful Force user in your own right. Everything your old Order, your old, stagnated, self-righteous Order, denied you. Kneel.”

Ben did so.

“Do you swear,” Snoke said, and his voice became softer, deeper, “Your life to the First Order, and the Empire it shall create?”

“I swear.” Forever. He could only hope that Snoke heard it, but judging from the light that came into Snoke’s eyes, he no doubt already did.

“Do you swear your loyalty to me until death rips you from my service?”

“I do, and beyond that, Supreme Leader.”

Snoke smiled. In the darkness, to an outsider’s perspective, he would have appeared almost sinister, frightening. But Ben Solo, or the man who had been Ben Solo, was not afraid.

“Do you promise me your defense, your loyalty, your devotion?”

“It is yours.”

A hand stroked the side of his neck. “Then to you, I entrust the defense of my Order, and the Knights who have followed you thus far. You will serve as my right hand. You will be my eyes, my ears, my right arm.”

Silence reigned. Then Snoke spoke again. It was a question, testing his loyalty once more, one last time.

“Do you grieve, my Knight?”

“No.” It was a lie, of course, but grief was not one of those emotions that Ben could ever afford.

“Do not grieve, Ben.” A hand caressed his cheek. “My apprentice. My right hand. Never doubt what you have done.”

“Master...”

“The moment you were born, Ben,” and here, the Supreme Leader’s voice became soft, “You were perfect. You’re still in training, but of all of those I have trained, you have gone beyond my expectations. I only want you to continue that.”

“Yes. I will...”

“Will you stand with me, my Knight?”

“I shall, my Leader. I am not afraid.”

“As well you should not be. Is there a name you wish to choose for yourself?”

There were so many Sith names that Ben doubted he could ever live up to. Vader, Revan, Sion...Vader most of all. He was not Sith, Snoke said as much, but he still had large shoes to fill. That much was too obvious. When one was part of a first new Order, it just made things worse.

And then he remembered. Something that Snoke had once called him, back in his Yana persona. Kylo. Victor. He could only hope he would be a victor, but it seemed appropriate to adopt. This, in the end, was who he really was.

“Kylo,” said Ben. “Kylo Ren.”

Snoke smiled. “A noble name. It suits you. And those who follow you shall be known as the Knights of Ren. Wherever you go, you will be known as the defenders of our Order, and those who shall succeed where the Empire failed. Your deeds will echo in the annals of this galaxy and beyond.”

“I am honored, Supreme Leader.”

“And I am honored to have you. My apprentice. My Knight.” There was the sort of reverence in there as if Ben -- Kylo Ren -- was something indescribably precious to him. And that was what mattered the most. Not the matter of the faces on the battlefield, or every event that came before, but the fact that he served the First Order, that he was better than the pathetic creature that he had been before.

_I am Kylo Ren.  
And you..._

In his mind, any restrictions that Luke had forced him to put on himself, like chains and ropes binding him, tried to rise up, to pull him back, to make him a “good” Jedi again, but Kylo Ren crushed them beneath his bootheel.

 _You are_ nothing.

***

In the throne room, Snoke could say that ultimately convincing Ben Solo -- now Kylo Ren -- had been a success.

Skywalker had tried to intervene, of course. Use his silver-tongued manipulations to break Ren’s spirit again, as he had done to his father before him. But Ren was not so easily fooled, so easily broken. Vader had been brilliant, but he had underestimated his own weaknesses that had left him pliable to manipulation at his son’s hands. Ren’s will, on the other hand, was iron, and could not be so easily broken by sentiment.

_Yes, Skywalker. You tried, you struggled, you battled for his soul, but he is not yours. He is not the Light’s. He is part of something so much more, something greater._

In the darkness of his throne room, Snoke smiled, a sort that for the Supreme Leader of the First Order, was genuine.

Ren was his Knight. And even after he passed into the nothingness that Dark Siders associated with death, he would continue to be.


	68. Chapter 67: Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the survivors mourn, recover and regroup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Well, this is the end, for now. I'll definitely write follow-ups, of course, but for now, we've come to the end of the road.

Away from the massacre, the survivors were still mourning.

Luke couldn’t deny it; he was still in shock after what just happened. To think that Ben had done this, to think that he had snapped like this...

Where had he gone wrong? Where had he failed Ben -- failed Leia for that matter? Because he knew that he had failed Leia as well.

Leia just looked tired. There were bruise-like shadows under her eyes, and Luke doubted that he had ever seen her this tired, this defeated, this...devastated. What had happened...

What had happened? How could he have not realized Snoke had infiltrated his Academy?

“I’m sorry, Leia,” Luke said. “I’m so sorry. I failed you, I failed Ben.”

“No. It wasn’t that.”

“But I didn’t see Snoke when I ought to have -- ’’

“He was clever,” Leia said bitterly. “I’ll grant him that. I never thought he would actually follow Ben to Yavin. Let alone do all this...”

“I didn’t think so either.” Luke wondered if that was how others felt after Palpatine was revealed to be Sidious. The matter of how-did-we-not-know and how-did-he-infiltrate-the-Senate-like-that. It seemed that history repeated itself again and again.

Leia was quiet. Then, “Part of it was Ben.”

“Leia -- ’’

“He was never strong enough.”

“Leia!”

“It’s true. He wasn’t strong enough to resist Snoke. He never was. He wasn’t.”

The silence between them both was all but devastating.

“Leia.” Luke looked at her in astonishment. “How can you even say that? Snoke would have gotten to any of us. He really would have.”

“I know. But he was always susceptible to Snoke’s influence. Snoke preyed on him -- ’’

“He was just a little boy. Are you really going to blame a little boy for being manipulated by a more powerful adult?”

“Of course not, Luke. But -- ’’

“Did you ever really think of him as human? Did any of us, actually, besides Han? Besides Poe? We saw things in him that were evil, that were disgusting, things that should have been perfectly normal to a small child. We saw so many awful things in him but did we ever see the good?”

Leia’s breath seemed to hitch, as if she was fully comprehending what exactly happened. “Did we ever?” she said, almost as if in shock. “Did we...” Then she turned to look at Luke. “He meant the galaxy to me.”

“I know. But that by itself isn’t a guarantee that we’ll be perfect. That by itself isn’t a guarantee that we’ll be free from mistakes.”

“No.” Leia took a deep breath. “Luke...is part of this our fault?”

“I don’t know,” Luke said.

Han rounded a corner just then.

“What the hell is going on here?” Han said. “Is Ben all right?”

“Snoke claimed him.” And even those words, those horrifying words -- Luke had to force them out. Gasp them out.

Han rose sharply from where he was sitting. “Snoke what?”

“Snoke claimed him.” Leia managed to vocalize what Luke barely could, and her voice was shaking, trembling. “I don't know how, exactly, but he persuaded Ben to go to his side.”

“He tried persuading Ben that he was doing a good thing.”

Han, meanwhile, looked as if he had been slapped -- and that slowly turned to anger.

“You’re sick. You’re both sick. How can you even say something like that?”

“Han, it’s true.” Alora looked at him in that moment, and her eyes were wide with pity, yet a desire for Han to understand. “We found the bodies -- ’’

“It could have been anyone!”

“Ben was there. We confronted him.” Luke said. “Han...I know you're upset, I know you don’t want to believe it. But he was there.”

“But why would he -- ’’

“I told you,” Leia said. “It was Snoke.”

Han looked from Leia to Luke to Alora, as if trying to digest the horrible truth for himself. Finally, he said, “I don’t believe you. I...I just...Ben wouldn’t do this...”

“Han -- ’’ Luke began.

Han left. Luke looked after him, quietly mourning for all of them.

***  
Chewie was the first one to come after him, grunting in concern.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Han ran a hand through his hair. He should have reacted better, but what Luke had said...

Luke couldn’t have hurt him more than if he reached out suddenly and set Han on fire.

Even trying to picture Ben doing what he did, he couldn’t. Ben, who wouldn’t have hurt a gizka let alone several younglings. Ben, who had been so gentle with Jaina, like she was something precious. Ben, who had come running towards him when he disembarked from the Falcon with a sort of grin that would have lit up a whole galaxy. Ben, who had helped him fix the Falcon, Ben, who would tell him stories, in person and through his letters, about the adventures that he had been on. Ben, who he’d read stories to and watched holovids with and played games with...

_And that didn’t stop you from leaving him, did it, Solo?_

_Where’d you go wrong? Was it the constant fights with Leia? Was it the matter of you not seeing your son enough even before he got sent off to Jedi-land? Where exactly did you kriff up, Solo? One specific instance? Sixteen?_

Yeah, maybe sixteen would do. Sixteen would do a lot. Sixteen summed it all up, actually. He had tried so hard to make things better for Ben than things had been for him that he had ended up driving Ben away.

Yeah, that was it. It had to be.

“Captain Solo?”

Huyang. Han thought he had seen him before around the Academy. He raised his head. “Hey.”

“Is all well?”

“Fine as it can be.” Han could swear that damn droid was judging him. Like it was somehow his fault that Ben had done what he did. Apparently.

Silence. Then Huyang spoke, gently. “Your son was always troubled, wasn’t he?”

“What the stang is that supposed to mean?”

“There was always too much Vader in him,” Huyang said.

Han could have sworn that he felt like he had been punched in the chest. “He wasn’t like that at all!”

“They were both very similar, weren’t they?” Huyang continued. “Temperaments, passions...there is, after all, nothing stronger than genetics, is there?”

“He wasn’t...” Han found himself trailing off. But what about those bodies? What Luke and Alora found?

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Huyang said.

“Y’know, Huyang...you’re a bastard. You really are. You’re too willing to pin the blame on Ben’s genetics, but stars forbid you actually take a look at yourselves.”

“I -- ’’

“Because you hated him, that’s why,” Han said. “You hated him for being different, being imperfect -- you hated any trace of imperfection in him. Did you ever try and help him after Thomas died, or after I had to...to...”

He broke off. He could barely finish the sentence, the sentence about one of the worst days of his life.

“Captain Solo, please. You’re not thinking rationally.”

“You broke my boy. And I’m not forgiving either you or Snoke for that.”

Huyang’s voice took on as much of a note of sorrow as a droid could. “You’re grieving. I can hear it in your voice. I know that you loved him more than anything, Captain.”

“You don't know what the kriff those words mean, pal. I don't think you’d know them if they danced in front of you wearing that Hutt slave outfit.”

“Captain -- ’’

Even as Han stormed away, he could have sworn that he heard Huyang say, “I’m sorry, Captain.” He wasn’t up for it. He wasn’t up for hearing a likely fake apology from the Jedi Order. Sorry we let you down, Han. Sorry we kriffed up your son, humiliated him and put him down, stripped him of his dignity, and many other things. Sorry we couldn't protect him.

Chewie followed, and grunted in concern, in worry.

“I’m okay, pal. Really.” Well, he wasn’t okay, not in the slightest. How could Huyang say those things? How could anyone? How --

“The way he talked about Ben...” But it was more than just that. Han had a feeling that if he had less self-control, he probably would have punched Huyang out somehow, even if his hand got injured in the process.

Because Ben couldn’t be that man. It was completely, utterly wrong.

“ _Master Huyang should not have spoken of you in such a manner either.”_

“Yeah.” Han sighed. “I’m just sick of it, Chewie. Sick of all of it.”

“ _As the old human expression goes, join the club.”_

Han laughed bitterly. “You too?”

“ _We lost someone of great value to us. A family member. The bonds of family can’t be broken, can they?”_

 _Lost._ Han didn’t believe it. He couldn’t.

_He’s not gone. He can't be gone. Luke probably didn't even try, did he --_

But Luke did. No, scratch try; Luke did reach out to Ben. And for some reason, Ben hadn't been up for listening to what Luke had to say. If even Luke couldn’t reach him...

But he’s not lost. He can't be.

“This can’t be it, Chewie,” Han finally said. “This...it’s ridiculous to think this way but it can’t be all there is.”

“ _There’s nothing ridiculous about how you feel. The bond between a father and his cub is not easily broken, is it?”_

“No. I guess it’s not.” Because Han loved him. Loved that difficult, complicated boy. Leaving him had been as awful for him as it had been for Ben, and he knew that he shouldn't have left. He had wanted so hard to make sure that Ben never knew disappointment and...what happened?

And Han knew he loved him because he couldn't accept, somehow, that this was all there was. It was something he should have seen coming. Parents were pretty willing to defend their kids who’d taken a wrong turn somehow and hearing about those stories had made Han roll his eyes in disgust reading them. “Are they delusional?” he’d said to Chewie when hearing those stories on the Holonet. “How can they say this stuff?” And Chewie had agreed with him.

Now Han knew. Because he’d fallen into that trap himself. Because he refused to believe that this was it for Ben. How could Luke talk some sense into Vader at the last minute but he couldn't save Ben? Stang, he and Vader did the same things...

And that realization chilled him. He and Vader did the same things. Minus the choking one’s wife part, minus the lava part. But the rest...

_But that can't be all there is. It just can’t..._

It couldn’t be the end of this.

“It can't be all there is.” Han ran a hand through his hair, feeling suddenly as if he had aged ten years. “It can't...”

Han’s voice cracked, and it really was only Chewie’s arms wrapped around him, in the end, that kept him from falling.

***  
Poe Dameron couldn’t sleep.

Jessika was asleep, thank goodness, as were the others. Poe envied them. He could only lie awake, listening to the sound of one of his squadmates muttering something about tauntauns cheating at dejarik (lucky bastard), desperate to get to sleep.

Poe, meanwhile, doubted that he could get to sleep. He had to find Ben. He had to search through the databases, he had to find a way to find out what happened to him.

He knew already someone was going to chew him out for it. Rieekan, maybe. There’d be nothing but sympathy in his eyes while doing so. “ _Ben’s probably dead, son. I’m sorry. You can’t just be using the Holonet to look up a dead person.”_

He typed in the search terms. _Ben Solo._

Nothing came up.

But that couldn’t be, could it?

He typed in _Yavin IV massacre._

There were articles, of course, about the massacre, listing off names of the dead -- Jim Nichos, Gabriel Naris, and more for that matter -- Matthew Travis speculating that the destruction was some sort of conspiracy (which led Poe clicking out in disgust. Did this man have no concept of poor taste?), and some people talking about Ben, how he’d saved them, given them hope for their lives, and much more. Poe doubted that even the most complimentary obituary for Ben Solo could sum up how wonderful Ben really was. They didn't talk about the moments he cracked jokes. They didn't talk about the worsening depression that seemed to settle over him like a stormcloud. They didn't talk about his smile, which Poe had found was one of the most beautiful things in the galaxy.

Ben was too bright, too beautiful a star, to ever be really talked about.

Poe could come up with an obituary in his mind, of course. _Ben Solo was a beautiful, uncommonly kind young man I knew who would do anything for justice..._

And even those writings, in that obituary in Poe’s mind...he doubted they could suffice.

And it was there that it truly hit him.

Ben was dead.

No, Ben couldn't be dead. He was strong, he was clever, he would have found a way out of this. It couldn’t end there. And Poe would find out what happened to him. The man he loved above all others, the man who was the galaxy to him.

“I won’t stop looking for you, Ben,” Poe said to the empty air. “I promise.”

No reply. Jessika murmured something in her sleep that sounded like “feeding the banthas is difficult when they have sharp teeth” -- whatever she was dreaming about, Poe didn’t know. He turned back to the empty air, spoke to it with such tenderness.

“I love you.” he said.

And that...that was no lie.

***  
Leia couldn’t sleep. It seemed that the argument between her and Luke replayed in her head, Not to mention Han storming off. Just the sheer anger there had hurt, and gave her a feeling that she had likely lost Han for good.

As if she didn’t lose him before. Han had been so devastated when she had sent Ben away -- “ditched him”, as he put it -- that she thought she was going to lose him then in that moment. Now, it seemed, was when she lost him for good.

Luke and Han seemed to think that she didn’t love Ben. Didn’t love her own son. Never mind that it was nothing like that at all. She knew, she just knew, that Ben wouldn’t have fallen if it wasn’t for Snoke. Snoke had always been watching her son. How much influence Snoke really had on Ben, she didn’t know, but he had had some sort of influence. Who’s holding who prisoner came to mind. Who was truly influencing Ben? For all intents and purposes, her son was as good as a prisoner.

And it was her fault.

She didn’t mean it, of course. The bad parents, the flawed parents, they never really meant it, did they? But if she had done something differently, if she had known...

But how was she supposed to know even Luke wasn’t safe? It was like no matter where they went, Snoke would have found them. Like a predator too bent on their prey, and ruining their lives.

No, she didn’t hate her own child. In the end, she only mourned for him, and mourned for how things had splintered between her and Han. Half the things she said she hadn’t meant, had mostly been spillovers of pure anger and grief and my-fault-all-my-fault.

_If I had been more careful. If I hadn’t thought the worst of a little boy. If I had told Han. If, if, if..._

So many ifs. Too many of them, actually.

She couldn’t travel back to the past and warn her younger self. But she could try and rescue Ben now.

In the end, that’s what mattered most.

***  
It wasn’t long before Han saw Luke heading towards the shuttle.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve got work to do, Han.”

“And Ben?”

Luke took a deep breath. He actually looked burdened. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’?”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to him. After what he’s done...”

And it was there that it hit Han too much like an oncoming speeder. Luke, the man who had encouraged him to stay with the Rebellion, who with Leia saw things in Han that he hadn’t even known existed, was leaving. He wasn’t even trying to save Ben, his student

_it’s all his fault, a voice in the back of his mind said. if he had actually treated Ben like a person and not some minefield waiting to be detonated --_

but it was more complicated than that, wasn’t it?

wasn’t even trying to fight back against Snoke, but instead he was just running away. Running to who-knew-where in the galaxy, and leaving all of them behind to clean up his mess.

What had happened to Luke, anyway?

_You never give up, kid. Come on. What changed in you anyway?_

“Dear stars,” Han said. “You were willing to go through hell for Vader but not for my own son?”

“Han, it’s not like that at all -- ’’

“You’re a kriffing coward. And a hypocrite. You remember you gave me an earful when I tried leaving the Rebellion? And now you’re just gonna start running until you can’t see Ben anymore. What’s wrong with you?”

Silence.

“He needed you! Stang, you didn’t see how he looked, did you?” A pause. “Well, did you? Did you see how he cried out in his sleep, or did you just not give a bantha’s cargo -- ’’

“Han,” Luke said, “It’s not like that at all.”

“Then what the stang was it like? You know, Luke, I don’t get it. I just don’t. You thought he was a freak just because he didn’t recite the Jedi Code backwards and forwards, and Leia was just enacting her own little psychodrama on Ben because she couldn’t see anything but dear old dad. Never mind Ben was a kriffing child, for the stars’ sakes! Do you assume all Dark Side kids are like the kids in holos who kill their older sisters or something? Coming out of the womb evil? What about you, Luke? You were a Sith’s son, and you’re not evil. Why is Ben any different?”

“Han, please -- ’’

“You didn’t see the way Leia looked at him. At her own child. Like he was some kind of freak or something. And don't think I didn’t see the way you looked at him too.”

Luke looked away, and for the first time since Han had seen him, he actually looked abashed, even guilty. Then, “I promised to protect him. Every action he took, it was a reflection of my own failing to keep my promise to Leia. I was afraid, and I let fear blind me.” Beat. “I’m not a perfect man, Han. I’d like to be, but I’m not. But Ben meant the galaxy to me. You’re not the only one who loved him, Han.”

Han paused. He wasn’t Force sensitive. He couldn’t sense any of what Luke was thinking or feeling -- Ben was always the telepath, always the one who could read what others were thinking. But Luke...

There was something in Luke’s voice that let Han know full well that he wasn’t lying.

“As for Leia...I don’t know.” Luke’s voice was soft, but he could meet Han’s eyes again. “I know she came to me saying that she was scared of a presence stalking Ben.”

“Who?”

Luke sighed. “I don’t know. I’m thinking it was Snoke, but I haven’t found a connection yet. I don’t know if there’s a connection between the living shadow and Snoke. It could have been anyone. But Leia was afraid of that presence. That’s why she sent him away.”

“She could have told me.”

“She didn’t know how to.”

Silence reigned between the two men. Han took a deep breath, feeling, suddenly, the sheer rottenness of his words crashing down on him. He shouldn’t have even said that. After seeing the sheer agony that Leia had gone through...

“I was an idiot, Luke.”

“Understandable.” Luke sighed. “It’s a very...charged situation right now. And it’s going to get worse in a hurry. That’s why I have to leave, Han. That’s why I have to act.”

“Where are you gonna go?”

“There’s a Jedi Temple out there,” Luke said. “The first one. Rumors say the Empire actually sought to destroy it like they did with the other temples over the years that they conquered, but they never found the last piece of the map.” He smiled. “If we can get the upper hand on them somehow, we still have a chance.”

“Good thinking, kid.”

“Where are you going to go?” Luke said.

“To find Ben. If he’s still out there...” Han sighed. Somehow he couldn’t bear the idea that Ben was gone, completely gone. He had to be able to be saved, somehow.

“Good thinking, Han. If you find him...”

“Do you want me to tell you what I find?”

“I don't know if it’s possible,” Luke said. “I have to keep my tracks covered. If the First Order finds the lost Temple, they won’t hesitate to finish what Palpatine started. But...tell him that his family still loves him greatly, and is waiting for him.”

Damn right. “I will. Luke? May the Force be with you.”

“And you.”

Then Luke boarded the shuttle, and he was gone.

Han sighed. “Be safe out there, kid,” he said, to the place where the shuttle had been.

Chewie grunted.

“Chewie, I know, it is crazy, but he’s out there. I know he’s out there. And I have to go and find him. I have to save him.” Han sighed. “He can’t be lost forever. Snoke can’t have claimed him for his own. I’ll be damned if that actually happened.”

A grunt from Chewie. “You don’t even know where he is, though.”

“Then I’ll never stop looking for him.” Han started up the Falcon.

“You don’t know how long it will take.”

“Chewie -- remember when I went out to go and save Luke at Hoth? How that turned out okay in the end?”

An affirmative grunt.

“Do you know why I did it, Chewie? Because Luke was my friend, and I wasn’t going to leave him to whatever wampas or other creatures came along. Same with Ben. I’m not going to leave him to Snoke.”

“ _No.”_ Chewie growled. “ _We won’t leave him to that...monster.”_

“That’s the spirit. Come on!” Han headed towards the Millennium Falcon, and it was then that the Falcon flew off, into the galaxy and towards an uncertain future.


End file.
